


The Wild Waves Whist

by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers)



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Desert Island Fic, F/M, sparrabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfDreamers/pseuds/QueenOfTheDreamers
Summary: On the island with Jack in Curse of the Black Pearl, Elizabeth lights a signal fire that goes entirely unseen. Stranded with a pirate she finds exceedingly irritating, Elizabeth realises she has no choice but to trust in him, else she be damned to starvation or worse. But this marooning lasts far longer than anticipated, and opinions warp and shift before rescue comes at last.





	1. Come Upon These Yellow Sands

He was a liar.

His stories were lies, and his misdeeds had landed the both of them on this deserted island.

Elizabeth sat on the beach, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring out at the sea, despising Captain Jack Sparrow. She'd never hated anyone in her entire life, she didn't think.

"Keeping an eye out for ships? You'll be watching for a good long while," said a voice from behind Elizabeth. She drank deeply from her bottle of rum, feeling it in her head, and she mumbled,

"If I hope hard enough, perhaps someone will show up here and rescue me from you."

"That's not nice." Captain Sparrow -  _Jack_ \- sank slowly down onto the sand beside her. He'd gone off to relieve himself after having half a bottle of rum, leaving Elizabeth alone for a while. He'd shown her his bullet wounds, his scars, but he was still a liar, she thought. She tried to remind herself of that as she drank again. Some of his stories were true, but the one that mattered - the one about this island - was false.

"Look," said Jack in a begrudging sort of voice, "When you and I are rescued by some passing merchant vessel, or some such similarly miraculous happening occurs, we shall see to it that young Mr Turner is summarily set free by his vicious captors. Eh?"

"He doesn't have time to wait for us," said Elizabeth. She shut her eyes and drank again. "By the time you and I get rescued, Will will be dead. Gone."

Jack sighed deeply. "And you love him as deep as all that, do you?"

Elizabeth gulped and shook her head a little. " _He_  loves  _me._ "

"Not the same thing, is it, love?" Jack stared at her, and Elizabeth flicked her eyes to him. He was  _annoyingly_ handsome, she thought, with his perfectly-shaped, kohl-lined eyes, his cheekbones that could cut glass, his long thin nose… She didn't even mind the way he smelled of sweat and the ocean and spices sitting next to her. She didn't mind his dreadlocked, ornamented hair. She studied him and answered,

"No, it isn't the same thing. But I care for him, as a childhood friend who loves me, and so I need to rescue him."

"Well, love, that isn't exactly an option for you just now," noted Jack. He took a long draught of rum and murmured, "I assure you, this is not the way I meant for this to turn out for any of the three of us."

"I know." Elizabeth turned her face to the sea. "But I still resent you for it."

"Fair enough," Jack said. He drank again, and so did Elizabeth, starting to feel more than a little drunk as the sun started to set on the horizon. Jack said, "Time to light a fire before it gets dark."

"How are we meant to do that?" asked Elizabeth. "I certainly have no implements with which to -"

"Leave it to me, love." Jack staggered to his feet, and he left his bottle of rum on the sand as he made his way over to the tree line. He began to gather up fallen fronds and leaf sheaths. He took armloads at a time and began stacking them on a spot of open beach. Elizabeth huffed a breath and figured she ought to help. She stumbled as she walked, feeling a bit drunk, and she bent to gather fronds and sheaths like Jack was doing. She carried them to where he was building a fire, and she watched as he made a pile of extra fuel nearby.

Then she sat on the sand and watched in absolute wonder as Jack began to start the fire. He built a tinder nest using the soft insides of palm bark, piling it up into a fuzzy pouf. He used the rest of the bark to make a fire board, using the dagger at his hip to cut a v-shaped notch into it and a depression adjacent. He placed palm bark under the notch and used a spindle of bark wood inside the notch to spin. He spun and spun and spun until sweat began to drip from his forehead, and Elizabeth wondered if he would ever, ever, ever manage to get a spark. His rough hands rolled up and down the spindle, over and over, until, at last -

Fire!

Or, at least, a glowing ember. Jack expertly tapped the fire board to drop the ember onto the piece of bark, and then he transferred it onto the nest of soft tinder. He blew on it gently, and it burst into flame.

"Ha!" he exclaimed proudly, and he brought the flaming tinder carefully to the pile of dried palm detritus and stripped bark. The fire caught almost at once, and then it grew, with some more blowing from Jack. He smirked at Elizabeth.

"Easy peasy," he bragged, but Elizabeth's mouth had fallen open in wonder. Jack wordlessly walked over to where their bottles of rum sat abandoned in the sand, and when he came back, he handed Elizabeth hers. In the glow of the fire he'd built, he looked awfully handsome, Elizabeth couldn't help thinking. She gulped again and let him clank his bottle against hers.

"Tomorrow I'll build you a shelter," he said quite proudly. "It'll be a month or more before someone comes by to rescue us. We'll have weather before then. So you'll be in want of a shelter, won't you? Hm."

"Jack." Elizabeth felt a quiver of fear go through her as she stared at the bottle in her hands. "We can't survive for a month on rum."

"And whyever not?" demanded Jack, but then he rolled his eyes and assured her, "Easy enough to spear some slow reef fish with a cutlass and roast 'em over the fire. Easy enough to shake down some coconuts for water and their meat. Rain brings water that we'll catch up for ourselves. We'll make it, love. You'll see. You won't go starving or dying of thirst, not on Captain Jack Sparrow's watch."

Elizabeth sighed and chewed her lip. She made up her mind right then and there to raid the stores of rum and light a signal fire in the morning. The entirety of the English Navy in the Caribbean was searching for her. Surely they'd see her signal. All she needed to do was get Jack Sparrow smashingly drunk so he wouldn't notice what she was doing.

And that didn't seem like such a difficult task.

* * *

It didn't work.

He'd screamed viciously at her for burning all the rum, and she'd spat back that everyone was looking for her, that her signal was sure to bring ships. But hours had passed with her massive fire raging, and nothing had appeared on the horizon. All that had happened was that she'd scorched several rather important coconut palms and had burned up all the rum on the island. By the time the fire fizzled down to a normal size, the sun was going down again, and Jack stormed back to Elizabeth and demanded,

"Where is your Navy, Miss Swann? Where is the good old Commodore, eh? You burned up - nay,  _exploded_ , blew up - all of my rum for no good reason, didn't you?"

"It was for a good reason," Elizabeth said tearfully. "I thought for certain  _someone_  would see that signal. That dark smoke was over a thousand feet high. How it is that no ship at all saw it, I can not fathom."

"Well, it seems that no ship at all saw it," Jack said, crossing his arms over his chest. He tipped his head. "When are you going to accept, Elizabeth, that we are trapped on this island with exceedingly limited resources and very little recourse?"

"I attempted recourse!" Elizabeth screamed. She gestured toward the fire, to the burning crates, and she cried, "I burned wood and alcohol to try and signal the dozen ships out looking for me right now. I am the Governor's daughter! Commodore Norrington wants nothing more than to find me! I tried, Jack Sparrow. I tried."

" _Captain_ , if you please," he said tightly, and Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. She threw up her hands and said,

"You have been thoroughly divested of your ship, Jack. You couldn't be less of a captain just now if you tried."

"What I am," he said, walking toward her and looking her right in the eyes, "is a man trapped on an island with no spare fresh water, no food, having to build fires and shelters from scratch… and what  _you_  are, Miss Swann, is a lady on an island in the same position. Do you know how to spear reef fish with your cutlass and build a shelter out of palm fronds?"

Elizabeth tipped her chin up. "I'm sure I could figure it out."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "With what cutlass, exactly? Admit it, Elizabeth; you need me right now. Your signal fire didn't work. Nobody in that Navy saw it; they're not coming for you, love. We have to wait this out until a ship passes by, at which point we'll have to find  _more_  signal fire material. In the meantime, if you want to live, may I suggest putting that pouting, pretty lip back where it goes and accepting that you and I have no choice but to be copacetic? Eh?"

Elizabeth quickly adjusted her angry mouth, suddenly very self-conscious. She huffed and told him,

"I am not going to  _like_  you, Jack Sparrow."

"Never said you had to," he replied, "but I'd really love not to shoot you, Miss Swann."

He gave her a weighty look, and she studied his eyes for a very long moment. She finally shrugged and shut her eyes.

"Why didn't they come?"

"Probably because they didn't see the smoke," Jack replied, as though it were obvious.

"But how is that possible?" Elizabeth demanded, and Jack sighed before he told her,

"I've learned a lot in my… admittedly bizarre life, Miss Swann, but one of the most important things I've learned is that anything - and I mean  _anything_  - is possible. Including an entire Navy missing your signal fire."

"There's still some rum," said Elizabeth. "I couldn't carry it all. There are two crates left that I didn't get onto the fire. When I told you it was gone, I was just trying to rile you up. They were too big for me to lug out of the hole in the ground."

"Oh. Good. Two crates should last a week," Jack joked, and Elizabeth finally smirked at him. Jack walked away, and she was curious about what he was doing, until she saw his shadowy outline scouring the ground near some palm trees. He picked two objects up off the ground - coconuts. Elizabeth's mouth suddenly watered, and when Jack brought the coconut back, she realised just how thirsty she was.

"How do we open these?" she asked, accepting the coconut and staring at it. Jack pulled out his sword, and Elizabeth gasped a little. But then Jack turned his sword over and used the blunt side near the hilt to whack at the middle of the coconut. Suddenly it split open in his hand, and he hurried to drink the coconut water before it spilled out. He tucked his coconut under his arm and took Elizabeth's, and he told her,

"Be ready to drink."

He whacked it open just over her head, and Elizabeth gasped as he cracked it apart so she could drink the coconut water. She gulped it down and then swiped at her mouth with the inside of her wrist.

"My God in Heaven; that is delicious," she marveled.

"The meat has lots of water in it; it keeps you damp," Jack told her. He put his sword away and pulled out his dagger. He opened the coconuts one and a time and carved the meat away from the shells in strips. The two of them stood there in silence for a long while eating, until finally Elizabeth told him,

"For a man who was only marooned for three days, you're awfully good at Desert Islanding."

"You're assuming that my last stay on this particular island was my only sojourn to a tropical wasteland," Jack said cryptically. Elizabeth frowned and chewed one of her last bites of coconut meat.

"Will you tell me more of your stories?" she asked. "Like how you got those gunshot wounds?"

Jack shook his head a little. "My stories aren't fit for lovely ears like yours," he said, but Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"Lovely ears," she repeated. "I'm not a child, Jack. You can tell me anything."

He scoffed. "No, love; there's quite a lot I can  _not_  tell you, though I certainly admire your bravado. Now. I had intended on building you a shelter today, but you managed to make me cross enough that I circled the island five times kicking sand up in rage while your ridiculously ineffective signal fire burned, so that didn't happen. No shelter. Sorry. Anyway, you'll be sleeping out on the sand again tonight as a consequence."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't mind."

Jack stared at her in the glow of the fire, shook his head, and smiled crookedly until gold glimmered through.

"And here I thought you were actually flirting with me last night," he said. "Stupid old me, eh?"

Elizabeth felt her cheeks go warm, and she swallowed past the knot in her throat. She had flirted with him, rather wantonly, but it had only been to trick him into drinking until he passed out so she could light the signal fire. She sniffed now and told him,

"I may not like you very much,  _Captain_  Jack Sparrow, and I may be quite furious with you about what's happening to Will right now, but you're right about one thing. I need you. I tried my damndest to get us off this island, and I failed. So I am stuck here with you, and without your help, I will die. So, yes, I need you, and therefore I must be more amiable to you than I have thus far been."

"Is that just a very eloquent way of you saying you're sorry?" Jack narrowed his black-lined eyes, and Elizabeth rolled hers. She stared at the ground around the fire and mumbled,

"Now to find a good spot for sleeping. Goodnight, Captain Sparrow."

He backed away from her, that smirk of his growing until firelight glinted off his golden tooth. He nodded.

"Goodnight, Miss Swann."

**Author's Note: Woo hoo! Sparrabeth! I haven't written for PotC since about 2004 or 2005 (showing my age here) so I'm really glad to be back in this fandom and trying out this pairing for the first time. I realize there are a lot of stories that center around their time on the island, but I'd like to put my own spin on it, and I promise things will definitely get a little wonky.**

**To those reading, thank you so very kindly for joining me. If you get a quick moment to leave a review, I'd be exceptionally grateful, especially given the small size of this fandom at the moment. Thanks to all!**


	2. Shelter

The next day, Jack blinked his eyes open and rather hoped to find himself aboard the  _Pearl._  But there he was, lying on the sand, trapped on the damned island where Barbossa had tossed him with the sour-spirited but beautiful Elizabeth Swann.

He'd promised her a shelter, he remembered. He heaved himself up to stand, the usual twinge of a hangover notably absent this morning. He rose and put his hands on his hips, staring at the way Elizabeth was still fast asleep on the warm sands, curled on her side in her thin underdress with her knees tucked up a bit. Her golden hair, knotted from the salt and wind, blew over her face a little, concealing her prettiest features. It was probably for the best, Jack thought. He ought not stand there and watch her sleep.

He huffed and walked off toward the tree line, gathering up as many freshly fallen palm fronds as he could into a pile. He'd need loads and loads of supple green leaves for this project. He gathered dozens of fronds and then lugged the armload of them back over toward the area where Elizabeth had built her obscene signal fire. He shook his head at the memory of the burning, exploding rum, and he set down the palms.

Jack searched through the palm branches until he found one that was Y-shaped. He stuck it very firmly into the sand, digging around it to deepen how far into the ground it went. He dug until he hit wet sand, and then he buried it up again. He did the same thing with a second Y-shaped branch about his body's length away from the first one, burying it just as deeply. He found the longest branch he had, much longer than his body, and placed it between the two Y-shaped branches to serve as the ridge pole. Then he began to stack branches at an angle, in thick layers, against the ridge pole to form the roof of the shelter. He shoved them up against the sides to make a three-sided shelter, layering the fronds thickly. Then he lay some of the remaining palms on the ground of the shelter to protect Elizabeth from too much exposure to the sand; her skin would quickly irritate if she lay on it night after night.

Finally he stepped back and studied his handiwork, putting his hands on his hips and nodding rather proudly at himself. He'd done well, he thought. All that training on that island off of Bali had served him well, for once.

"Is this my shelter?" asked a quiet voice from behind him. Jack turned round, and he held out his arms in a mocking grand gesture.

"I present to you, Miss Swann, the governor's mansion of this illustrious isle."

"No, it's… I'm rather impressed, if I'm honest," said Elizabeth, "and very grateful, I must say."

"Oh. Hmm. Well, there's a pleasant development in our relationship," Jack drawled. Elizabeth's full lips parted a little, and she rolled her honey-coloured eyes just a bit. She scoffed and started to move away, but just then there was a rumble of thunder in the distance.

Jack looked up to see rolling grey clouds on the horizon. He raised his eyebrows.

"Storm coming in." He stated the obvious. "We'll be needing this shelter soon enough."

"You think it will hold up in a thunderstorm?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, and Jack smirked.

"You'd be surprised how much wind and rain a good solid shelter like this one can take, love. You'll stay nice and dry. If you want to." He flashed her a crooked smile at that last bit, and she choked out an offended little noise. But then there was a bright white flash of lightning on the horizon, and another deep rumble of thunder, and Elizabeth turned to see what Jack saw - the clouds were edging closer. She chewed her lip and insisted,

"Ought we not try and eat something before the storm hits?"

"I like the way you think, love," said Jack. He pointed at her, and then at the tree line. "Coconuts, tout de suite. And after the storm… we feast on fish, eh?" He stalked off toward a grove of coconut palms and picked up two fallen coconuts, weighing them in his hands to measure whether they had water. He and Elizabeth drank the water out of them and ate the meat, and by the time Jack tossed the coconut shells onto the pile of fire material, the storm was bearing down upon them. The wind had picked up substantially, the air was wet and heavy, and lightning was flashing nearby.

"Right. Into the shelter with you, then," said Jack, and Elizabeth actually hesitated.

"Where will you go?" she asked, and he made a  _pffft_  sort of noise as he waved a hand at her.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love. Savvy? I've waited out countless terrible storms at the helm of a ship. You think I can't sit through a little thunderstorm at the foot of a coconut palm? I'll be just fine, love; you'd be awfully crowded in there with me."

"But, Jack," Elizabeth began to protest.

"Elizabeth, I'd much prefer not to hang for impropriety, of all the things I'll likely hang for," Jack said delicately, holding his hands up and twiddling his fingers. And it was the truth, too. He'd rather be called a rogue and a blackguard for stealing ships and cargo than for robbing a young woman's virtue, even if all that meant was lying too closely with her in a shelter on an island. Someday, someone was going to rescue them off of this island, and he wasn't sure he could trust Elizabeth not to rat him out for cuddling up beside her during a thunderstorm, even just to take shelter.

It began to rain, and Elizabeth's caramel eyes looked a little sad. She shook her head and whispered,

"I'm not dry now, Jack, and neither are you."

"Well, then, it seems my shelter is entirely irrelevant," he shrugged. Elizabeth dragged her top teeth over her bottom lip, which made Jack shiver a little. There was a sharp crack of lightning and thunder simultaneously - it was close. Elizabeth startled, and Jack reached for her shoulder rather on instinct.

"Go," he said. "Go get under cover."

"Come with me," she insisted. "You built the thing."

"Elizabeth," he said, shaking his head.

"It's  _Miss Swann,_ " she said very meaningfully, putting distance between them. Jack tipped his head and vowed,

"I swear to you, if I hang because I went into a shelter for a storm, I'll haunt you forever, Miss Swann."

But he followed her to the shelter, and he bent down to follow her inside. There was scarcely enough room in here for one person, let alone two. Jack tried to shove himself against the side of the shelter without destroying it, but there was no way around how closely he was lying to Elizabeth. She rolled away to face the wall of the shelter, and he found himself spooned against her from behind. He gulped heavily, reaching up to scratch at his chin.

"This thing is remarkably waterproof," Elizabeth observed in an awkward-sounding voice as the sound of rain thrashing against the palms sounded over and around them. Jack sat up just a little and stared out the open side to see that the rain had intensified into heavy grey sheets. A violent flash of lightning reverberated around them, and Jack lay back down.

"Works well, doesn't it, love?"

He shouldn't call her that just now.  _Love_. It felt inappropriate to call her that, lying behind her with her tucked up against his body. He could feel her bum against his groin, which was better than anything he'd felt in a good long while. He'd had many women -  _many_  women - in his life, but they'd all been mediocre, and most had been whores who had had many, many men. There was something oddly alluring about Elizabeth Swann. Her bite, her feisty nature, her obvious natural beauty… she had an appeal that very few women had. But she was so young, and so abjectly unavailable, even here on this desert island. Even here in this shelter Jack had built for her, in the middle of a raging thunderstorm, she was forbidden fruit.

"Jack?"

"Mmm?" He jerked back to reality at the sound of his name from her. She asked quietly,

"How long do you think Will has to live?"

Jack huffed a breath and licked his lip. "I dunno, Elizabeth. I promised you that once we get rescued -"

"Once the Navy rescues us, you're going to be tried for your crimes," she told him, "and I'll be dragged back to the Governor's Mansion and made to marry James."

"The Commodore." Jack nodded slowly. "Lovely fates all around, then. Perhaps I don't want to be rescued."

Elizabeth was silent at that. She finally murmured, "I wish you had a ship so that we could go rescue Will."

"Funnily enough, I also wish I had a ship," said Jack lightly, "though my motivations differ ever so slightly from yours."

"Why did you become a pirate, Jack?" asked Elizabeth, and the question seemed to come out of nowhere.

"I was born a pirate, love," Jack told her. He thought of the brand upon his wrist and considered telling her about his years spent working for the East India Trading Company, the way Beckett had branded him a pirate after he'd refused to transport slaves as cargo. But instead he said in a cocky tone, "I was born on a pirate ship in the middle of a typhoon."

Elizabeth snorted where she lay. "Another of your fantastical stories," she said dismissively, but Jack scowled and assured her,

"That one's entirely true."

Elizabeth began to roll to face him, which made him want to skitter away from her. He had nowhere to go, though, and he suddenly found himself with Elizabeth inches away from him her face so close he could have kissed her with incredible ease. He stared, wide-eyed, at Elizabeth as she arranged her head on her forearm and demanded,

"How am I meant to know what's true about you and what's just legend?"

"You aren't. It's all part of the mystique, my dear," Jack smirked, but then he swallowed hard and nodded. "I really was born on a pirate ship. Spent damn near my entire childhood on them. It's been all my life, really. I'm a pirate through my veins and to the marrow of my bones. And I'm nowhere near apologising for it, so best get used to the idea that you're lying in a shelter handmade just for you by the most piratey pirate that ever pirated."

Elizabeth actually smiled at that, and Jack's smirk grew a little bit. He'd amused her. He rather liked that thought, the idea that he'd made her grin. She'd spent most of her time on this island scowling angrily at him, but now she was staring at him with a little smile on her face. Suddenly her eyes fluttered shut in fear, for a clap of thunder sounded so near overhead that it seemed the storm would swallow them whole. Jack sighed and asked,

"Mind if I sing? An old shanty I learnt in that storied pirate youth of mine."

"No, I suppose I don't mind if you sing,"

Jack decided to skip the boring first verse of the song he had in mind and go straight to the second. He cleared his throat and sang quietly,

" _Let charming beauty's health go round, with whom celestial joys are found. and may confusion yet pursue, that selfish woman-hating crew. and he who'd woman's health deny, down among the dead men, down among the dead men. Down, down, down, down; Down among the dead men let him lie!"_

Elizabeth watched him in awed silence, even as the storm raged outside their shelter. Jack smiled at her as he sang the third verse about Bacchus - a bold move - and the fourth verse about love and wine. By the time he'd finished, the storm had calmed down substantially, and there was no more lightning or thunder. The rain had eased into a drizzle, and Jack murmured to Elizabeth,

"I think the worst of it's gone, love."

"Oh." She nodded, her cheeks pink and her lips looking more full than ever. Suddenly Jack felt a flush go through him. He  _wanted_  her. Her swallowed hard and studied her beautiful features, her honey hair, her smooth chest revealed by her underdress. He thought of the spark within her, like a fire about to catch, and he trembled just a little where he lay beside her.

He  _wanted_ her. He was going hard for her. He needed to leave, now, before anything happened.

"I'll go check on the damage, then," he mumbled. "Make sure our fire-pile's still in place, eh? He slithered out from the shelter, grabbing his effects from where they'd been at his feet, and he left Elizabeth inside. She called after him,

"Jack!"

He crouched down at the entrance of the shelter and peered inside, clutching his wide leather belt and holster in one hand and his cutlass in the other. Elizabeth propper herself up onto her elbows and stared at him. Her chest rose and fell quickly beneath her thin dress, and she nodded.

"Thank you, Jack," she said.

He let the drizzle soak his dreadlocks as he scratched at his chin and shrugged.

"It's  _Captain_ , love."

She rolled her eyes and flopped back down onto her back inside the shelter. Jack's cheeky smirk disappeared as he rose, feeling a coil of want in his belly.

"I'm going to check the reef for fish while it's churned up from the storm," he called, and he dropped his effects except for his sword, marching barefoot down to the shore.

**Author's Note: Hello, friends! These two are edging closer to not hating each other, huh? How long before they actually** _ **like**_   **each other? Mwah hahaha. Thank you so much for reading. PLEASE REVIEW if you can - I would really, really appreciate any and all feedback on this story.**


	3. Piratey Endeavours

"So," Jack Sparrow said as he blew on the fire he'd managed to build using wet materials, "I'm assuming you don't know how to prepare a snapper."

"You assume wrongly," Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. "I am not entirely helpless. I used to like to help our cook out, and we ate fish often. She taught me how to ready them for roasting and smoking."

"Good. It's on that rock over there. Here. You'll need this." Jack pulled his dagger out of its holster and held it out by the handle to Elizabeth. "I need to keep tending to this fire, else it'll go out in a wink. So get that fish ready, and we'll roast it up. Hurry now; it's been out of the water in the heat long enough."

Elizabeth walked over to the boulder where Jack had laid the large red snapper he'd managed to drive through with his cutlass. The fish had a gaping wound from the weapon, but most of the meat was untouched. Elizabeth stared at its odd little eyes and whispered,

"Sorry."

Then she cut its head right off, just as Cook had taught her to do. Ordinarily, she would have kept the head to make stock, but they had no pots for that here. She wondered if Jack would eat the head, and she winced at the thought. Next, Elizabeth grasped the fish firmly by the tail. Holding Jack's knife perpendicular to the fish, she stroked firmly from the tail end toward the head to dislodge the scales. Over and over again, she pressed down on the fish gently and stroked Jack's knife from tail to head until it was entirely divested on both sides of its scales. She carried the scaled fish out toward the ocean and rinsed it in a wave, and then she brought it and Jack's rinsed dagger back to him.

He'd gotten the fire truly going now, and he looked quite pleased with Elizabeth's handiwork. They stuck a rod of palm bark through the hole his cutlass had put into the centre of the fish, and Jack held it aloft over the fire to roast it. As Elizabeth stood beside him, she asked,

"Did we manage to collect any of that rain water?"

"I had six half coconut shells out; we got that much," Jack said, "and I had dug a big hole in the sand to collect it - a hole that didn't go down to the seawater. So we've got a fair bit of water, lass. Add in coconuts that keep on growing, plus rum, and we'll be just fine."

"We're not going to die on this island, are we?" Elizabeth asked, feeling suddenly afraid. Jack turned to her and smirked, tipping his head a bit.

"No, love. This is not how Captain Jack Sparrow dies. He hangs, maybe. He gets run through with a sword. Takes a bullet wrong. But he doesn't shrivel up on an island, marooned from his own ship. No, Miss Swann, we are not going to die on this island. Dinner's ready."

He pulled the fish from above the fire, and and the two of them sank down to sit on the sand to eat it. Elizabeth gingerly pulled off steaming hot bites that burned her fingers. She blew on them and ate them, thinking that they were good but could use a bit of lemon or rosemary. But she said softly to Jack,

"Thank you for catching the fish. You're quite right; if it weren't for you, I wouldn't last three days on this island."

"Well, you'd last just about that, and then you'd die staring up at the sun, desiccated and miserable," Jack said with a little laugh. He took a bite of fish and declared, "Never in my life have I tasted such good fish, I don't think."

Elizabeth flashed him a crooked little grin. "You've spent months at a time aboard ships eating nothing but hardtack and slop, and you're relishing fish after just a few days of coconut?"

"Mmm-hmm," nodded Jack, and he gave no further explanation. Elizabeth frowned a little but took another bite of fish in silence. By the time they'd polished off the snapper, she felt genuinely full, and she lay back in the sand and said rather happily,

"My belly's full. Feels nice."

Jack tossed the bones they'd picked clean aside; they might need them later for something. He twisted and lay on his stomach beside Elizabeth, staring down at her.

"What do you say to breaking out just one bottle from the two crates of rum you didn't blow up?"

"More drinking?" she groaned. She touched her forearm to her face and laughed a little. "All you ever do is drink, Jack Sparrow."

"False," he declared. "I also plunder, commandeer vessels, sail the seven seas, and undertake all other manner of piratey endeavours."

"Piratey endeavours," Elizabeth giggled, and Jack grinned as she pulled her arm away.

"Endeavours of the pirate variety," he clarified. Elizabeth laughed again and tipped her head back against the sand.

"Very well," she agreed. "Fetch the rum,  _Captain_. It might help me forget about Will, if just for a little while."

"Good enough reason for me," Jack declared, heaving himself to his bare feet and waltzing off toward the grove where the rum runners had stashed the liquor.

Elizabeth sat up from where she'd been lying in the sand. She stared into the fire and thought anxiously of Will. What had become of him? Jack had asked her if she loved Will. Did she? No, she didn't suppose she did. He was too…  _dull_. But, then, James Norrington was also very dull, and she was meant to marry him. So many men in the world seemed profoundly dull to Elizabeth Swann.

Jack Sparrow was not dull, said a quiet voice in the back of her mind. She quickly shoved that thought away. She mustn't think of Jack like that, she told herself. She mustn't think of the filthy pirate with whom she'd been marooned in any sort of lustful way. But it was true that he was handsome in a strange and exotic way, and it was true that he was erratic and bizarre in his behaviour in a way that was somehow alluring and even endearing. And it was certainly true that he was not dull.

"I come bearing rum!" cried Jack from behind her, and when she turned round, she saw that he had only one bottle in his hand. He hadn't been kidding, then, about preserving the stores. They were to share. She was to drink out of the same bottle as him. Why did that send a shiver up her spine?

_Stop it, Elizabeth!_  she commanded herself, but it didn't work. She was meant to be exceedingly cross with him about what had happened to Will Turner. She was meant to be furious with him about them getting marooned on this island. Instead, all she could think about as he approached her with a gold-glinted smile was that he'd built fires from nothing, that he'd made her a shelter from palm fronds, that he'd fished them a snapper out of the reef using his sword. All she could think about were the ways he'd saved her life, whacking a coconut open over her head so she could drink of it. And all she could hear was the sound of him singing as the rain beat down around them. Suddenly she found herself very dizzy with no rum in her at all, and she leaned heavily on her hands to steady herself.

"You all right, love?" asked Jack, and Elizabeth just nodded slowly. Jack came to sit beside her and pulled the cork out of the bottle of rum with a decisive sort of  _blop._  He handed the bottle to Elizabeth, and she tipped it back to take the first drink. It burned like fire going down her throat, and she winced.

"Still not used to rum," she said with a little cough. She passed it back to Jack, who gulped down two or three mouthfuls and proudly declared,

"Stuff's like water to me at this point. Been drinking it as long as I can remember."

"So that's why your mind is fried up like an egg," Elizabeth teased, and Jack rumbled with laughter. He sipped again and then passed back the bottle to her. She took it and stared into the amber liquid, and then she asked,

"How'd you get those gunshots, Jack?"

" _Captain_ ," he corrected her, but when she glared at him, he just stared and said, "Not telling."

"You're embarrassed of battle scars?" Elizabeth asked, knocking back some more rum. Jack was quiet for a moment until at last he noted,

"Nobody said they came from battle, love. Why don't you just go on with your fairy tales about me sacking Nassau port without firing a single shot, eh?"

"What, that's a lie, too?" Elizabeth drank more deeply now, and Jack sighed as he stared into the fire.

"I sacked the place, all right," he said, "but my men fired more than a few bullets that night. Sorry to inform you. A man has to build up his reputation, you understand. These stories you hear of me, they aren't lies outright, Elizabeth. More like… half-truths. For the truths that we see in their entirety may not excite us sufficiently, thereby leading us to exaggerate and elaborate, and thus we wind up with legends, eh?"

"I like the way you speak," Elizabeth found herself saying suddenly. She took a deep drink, and Jack turned to give her a little smirk.

"What, like a man who's had rum for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and doesn't know upwards from downwards, then?"

"Yes, like that," Elizabeth nodded, handing him back the bottle of rum. He gulped at it, drinking a quarter of the bottle in one go, and he told her,

"I know I'm strange, love; don't need the mockery over it."

"I'm not mocking you." Elizabeth rushed to say the words. She suddenly found herself holding onto Jack's shoulder, and he stared at her fingers curled around his shirt. She ripped her hand away, but he raised his lined eyes to hers and murmured,

"If you're not mocking me, then you're flirting with me, Lizzie, and if you're flirting with me, you'd best go into that shelter I built for you, eh? You've already had too much rum to be flirting."

"I'm not flirting," she whispered, and he tipped his head.

"Then what is it you're doing, love, complimenting my admittedly odd manner of speaking and putting your hand on me? Hmm? What are you up to, then, Miss Swann?"

She just stared. She wasn't sure what she was up to. She was drinking rum with the man who had saved her life in more ways than one. She was alone with him here. No dull Will Turner. No dull James Norrington. No chastising father. No eyes but theirs were here. They and they alone were on this island. Why did that send a sense of liberation flushing through Elizabeth's veins? Why did she feel freer than she'd ever felt at that knowledge?

"Jack," she whispered carefully, "I'm free here. Aren't I?"

"Don't start talking like that, Miss Swann," said Jack, chugging down the last of the rum. He tossed the bottle aside and whispered, "You should go to bed."

"To bed? The sun isn't even down yet," Elizabeth protested. "Perhaps I shall go swimming."

"I saw a shark in the reef when I caught the snapper. Don't go swimming," Jack advised her, and Elizabeth's eyes watered.

"There you go again," she shrugged. "Saving my life all the time. When at last we are rescued, Captain Jack Sparrow, I shall see to it that you are given Letters of Marque and full pardon. I shan't accept anything less if James Norrington wants my hand in marriage."

"Well, I thank you very kindly for the sentiment, Miss Swann, but my last outing working for the East India Trading Company didn't end so very sweetly, so I'm disinclined to traverse down that path yet again. That being said, I'll gladly accept the full pardon and hear your sweet voice spare me the hangman's noose."

_Sweet voice._  Had he meant that, or was it just a throwaway like so much else that he said? Elizabeth blinked slowly as the rum settled into her veins. She wet her bottom lip and reached out for his shoulder again. Her fingers convulsed upon his shirt the instant she touched him, her nerves taking over. She stared into his kohl-lined eyes and whispered,

"Jack."

He tipped his head to the side and seemed far more serious than usual as he muttered back,

"Yes, Miss Swann?"

"Elizabeth," she corrected him gently, and he quirked up half his mouth. When they'd first come onto this island, he'd called her  _Elizabeth_  and she'd barked at him,  _It's Miss Swann._  Now she was doing entirely the opposite. He sucked on his lip for a moment and then nodded, repeating,

"Elizabeth."

"Thank you," she said softly. "For everything. For… not shooting me after the signal fire failed."

"Believe it or not," he said, raising his black eyebrows, "I actually have relatively little interest in shooting you."

She smiled and continued, "Thank you for opening coconuts for us."

"Now you know how; all you have to do is steal my sword," he said lightly, eyeing the place where her fingers were still curled over his shoulder. Elizabeth squeezed a little there and said,

"Thank you for building me a shelter."

"I just wanted an excuse to lie close to you in the storm," he lied, and she laughed a little.

"Thank you for spearing the fish."

"I was hungry for fish," he insisted. Elizabeth pinched her lips and shook her head, narrowing her eyes.

"Pirate," she whispered, and he nodded. They just stared for a very long while, and suddenly Elizabeth realised that if she kept sitting here, she was going to kiss him. She finally dragged herself to her feet and mumbled,

"Best early to bed, early to rise, I suppose. Goodnight, Captain Sparrow."

"Night, Miss Swann." He stayed sitting on the sand, staring into the fire very seriously. Elizabeth huffed a breath and walked off on unsteady legs toward the shelter he'd build for her. She was almost there when she heard his voice panting from behind her.

"Elizabeth."

She whirled around to see Jack trudging as quickly as he could through the thick sand. He approached her in the darkness of the spot where the shelter was, relatively far from the fire, and she could barely make out his face. But he seemed very determined as he walked right up to Elizabeth, snared his right arm around the small of her back, and pleaded,

"Just… don't slap me and ruin this, all right?"

"Ruin what?" Elizabeth was breathless all of a sudden, and then Jack cupped her face in his left hand and bent a little until their mouths met. He pressed his lips to hers, and Elizabeth squealed in surprise. Then she melted like butter in the Caribbean heat, pushing her body against his and letting him splay his hand against the small of her back to pull her close. His left hand tightened on her jaw, and he deepened the kiss. Suddenly his tongue was inside of her mouth, exploring, running over the roof, twining with her own. He was nibbling at her bottom lip, sucking on it, and Elizabeth never, ever wanted the kiss to end. She'd come alive. She'd been lit on fire. She wanted this and so much more, she thought, though she wasn't sure exactly what  _more_  she wanted. She wanted him. She wanted Jack Sparrow.

And that was utter madness, she thought as he pulled away at last, as breathless and panting as she was. It was complete lunacy to want him of all people. Jack Sparrow, insane pirate.

He tasted like liquorice and rum.

Elizabeth stared at him as he backed away slowly, his lined eyes wide. He finally said in a quiet voice,

"You can go ahead and slap me now, if you'd like, Miss Swann."

"No, thank you," she replied. She glanced over her shoulder at her shelter and said to him, not for the first time tonight, "Goodnight, Captain Sparrow."

He tipped his head and smiled just a little. "Night, Elizabeth."

Then he turned and walked away, looking remarkably steady for a man who had had so much to drink.

**Author's Note: They kisssssssed. Yay! Will he tell her some stories of his past? Will they do a lot more than kissing? Will they get rescued? (Yes to all of these, probably.) Thank you so much for reading. I do realize that my breakneck upload speed doesn't leave a ton of time for reviews, and for that reason, I am infinitely grateful for each and every review that I do receive. Thank you so very much.**


	4. Stories

The next morning, after he woke on the sand at dawn, Jack cracked open a coconut for himself, drank its water, and ate its meat. Then he walked around the island, which wasn't very large, until he reached the other side. He intended on sitting for hours and staring at the sea on the off chance that a ship went sailing by. He finally reached the far shore of the island, and when he did, he saw something quite large out in the reef.

A barracuda.

Jack pulled out his cutlass and wandered close to the edge of the water, watching the barracuda dart back and forth in pursuit of its fishy prey. Jack stepped out into the water, careful not to startle the barracuda. He couldn't miss. If he missed, the four-foot-long fish would attack him and likely wound his legs badly. But if he managed to kill this fish, and smoke its meat, he and Elizabeth would have food for two weeks. He gulped and approached the area where the barracuda was darting about. It seemed to catch his scent, and he murmured,

"Here you go, 'cuda. Come here, lovely. Swim right this way, then."

The barracuda slowed down and began to swim in Jack's direction. He shut his eyes for a split second, steadied himself, and then brought his cutlass straight down.

Blood.

The fish flailed on the end of his cutlass; he'd gone straight through it behind its head. It didn't struggle for long. Soon enough, it was dead, leaving behind a massive eking puddle of blood spreading like ink in the seawater.

"Now to carry this damned thing back to camp," Jack lamented. He yanked his bloody cutlass out of the barracuda's corpse and realised he needed to hurry. All this blood would attract a bigger predator - sharks - and he had no interest in meeting up with them.

He hoisted the dripping barracuda carcass out of the water and heaved it around both of his shoulders. He struggled to make his way out of the water with its weight on him, and as he staggered back toward the camp he and Elizabeth had made, he began to wheeze just a little.

She was awake, he could see, and was building up the fire that had burned down to embers overnight.  _Good girl_ , he thought, not letting their fire burn out. She would save him the trouble and energy of having to light a new one by burning dried fronds.

"Jack!" she called, shading her eyes and watching him approach. "What is  _that_  thing?"

"Barracuda," he huffed as he approached. "Big fish."

"Yes, I can see that it's a very big fish," she chuckled. "My goodness. How on Earth did you catch it?"

"Stabbed it through its neck. Easy peasy," Jack japed. He walked over to the boulder where she'd cleaned up their little red snapper, and he heaved down the giant barracuda. "Getting this ready will take a fair bit of work."

"I'm up for a fair bit of work," she assured him. "Do we fillet it, or…?"

He eyed her curiously. "You know how to fillet a barracuda?"

She rolled her eyes. "I told you; I always worked with Cook in our house. I know more than you think I do, Jack."

"Right. Fillet away." He flicked his fingers at his forehead as if to tip his hat to her, and he turned to the fire to begin constructing a roasting spit for the barracuda meat.

"Jack?" asked Elizabeth cautiously. "Not that I'm not grateful for you catching this, but Cook told me once that barracuda meat can make you terribly ill. That it can make you retch and worse, that it can make you shake and feel cold and feverish all at once. It's some kind of poisoning."

"Only happens very rarely with barracuda," Jack assured her, "and it isn't as though we have our pick of food on this island, lass. That poisoning you speak of can happen with any reef fish; just gets a little more likely as you clamour up the food chain. But as for me? I'll be eating this here barracuda, because I'm  _hungry_. And if I quiver and catch the runs for it, well? It's a price I'll pay."

Elizabeth looked awfully uneasy, but she stared at the large fish Jack had brought back and sighed heavily.

"I'm all in on this, I suppose," she mumbled, and she began to use Jack's dagger to scrape the scales off the barracuda carcass.

She did a fine job of creating thin fillets, and Jack drove a spike through them before placing them high above the flames to smoke. This would preserve the fish meat so that they would have enough to eat for quite some time.

"And now," Jack said rather triumphantly as the fish smoked, "We make baskets to store it all. And for catching water; if you weave them tightly enough; they're waterproof."

"Basket-weaving?" Elizabeth raised her brows, looking baffled. She followed Jack to the tree line, where he grabbed a few branches of supple leaves. She demanded of him, "What  _don't_  you know how to do?"

"I learnt this particular skill from some very kind island women in the Bahamas," Jack said simply, remembering the old ladies who had taught him as a teenager how to weave baskets out of palms. "Now, take a seat."

Elizabeth sat, and he wondered whether she was going to bring up the fact that he'd kissed her. She didn't seem to want to discuss it. She was patient as he showed her how to strip the branches just so, how to slip a leaf through and weave it back and forth, then repeat that process with another one. She was clumsy at first, but quickly caught on. Jack's creation was tight and competent… hers would be used for the fish. Still, when she'd finished her basket, she held it up with all the joy of a child and giggled,

"Look what I've made!"

"Indeed. You're a fair weaver; you've got quite the career ahead of you should  _wife of a Commodore_  not pan out as hoped," Jack said, and suddenly Elizabeth's face fell a little. She lowered her basket and gave him a sad little smile.

"Wife of a Commodore," she repeated, and Jack tipped his head as he fingered the edge of his own basket.

"Follow the command of that thing beating in your chest, love." He stared at her, and she pinched her lips into a line as her hair blew across her face in the breeze. Her eyes watered heavily, and she said in a thick voice,

"I'm not sure what I want anymore."

"Hmm." Jack pushed himself up to stand. "I want fish."

They didn't get sick from the barracuda. Not even eight hours later, when they were reclining in the afternoon sun on the sand with coconuts in their hands, did they feel unwell. Elizabeth seemed much more at ease knowing that the fish wasn't going to poison them. She finished off the last of her coconut meat, and Jack carried her shell and his and and tossed them onto the fire for fuel. He came walking back to where she reclined, and he noted,

"More clouds on the horizon. There will be rain again this evening. I'll be sure to set my basket out to collect the water, eh?"

"Jack," said Elizabeth in a cautious tone, "You know you don't have to sit out in the rain, right?"

Jack smirked at her and asked,

"Is that your roundabout way of inviting me into the humble abode I've constructed for you, Miss Swann?"

"Perhaps it is," she nodded, biting her lip. Jack's smirk grew. He spent the next two hours preparing for the rain. He dragged the basket of dried barracuda meat under a coconut grove and covered the basket tightly with five layers of palm branches to shield the fish meat from the coming storm. He put out his tightly woven palm basket to collect water, and he sat and watched the dark grey clouds roll in. Finally it began to rain on him, and he made his way to Elizabeth's shelter. She was already inside, lying on her side, and as he took off his effects and lay them near Elizabeth's bare feet, he asked her,

"Are you entirely certain, my dear, that you want a blackguard such as myself sullying your lovely little cottage?"

"Come on in, Jack," said Elizabeth, and she patted the fronds beside her. He smirked a bit and bent down to climb into the shelter, realising just how very small it was in here. Couldn't he have built it any larger? Surely he could have done. He lay on his side facing Elizabeth, and suddenly the two of them were  _awfully_  close together. He stared into Elizabeth's honey-coloured eyes and was shocked when she reached up and pressed her fingers to the part of his chest that had been exposed by how he was lying. She touched at his gunshot wound scars and whispered,

"What happened to you?"

Jack sighed a little and said quietly,

"I wish I had a fantastical fairy tale for you, love. I could tell you that I was shot by the magical shot of a perilously armed mermaid who took a liking to me, or -"

"Jack, what happened to you?" Elizabeth asked again, staring up at him and rubbing at his flesh. That made him shiver, and at last he shrugged and told her,

"You know the story. Twenty-year-old first mate Jack Sparrow helped capture a ship meant for the Spanish King himself, with all its gold aboard. And when I did that, love, the crew of  _La Princesa Morada_  didn't take kindly to my presence. The truth is that I took two gunshots to the chest and spent nearly the entirety of the raid lying on my back on the deck of my own ship while my crew did the pillaging. But it was my name that got the glory, and I was lucky enough to heal thanks to a very competent ship's doctor."

"When was that?" asked Elizabeth, and he realised she was trying to figure out how old he was. She was so very young, and she wanted to know just how much older he was than her. Why did it matter? Norrington was at least fifteen years older, he reckoned. And, anyway, it wasn't as though Jack was some sort of romantic suitor for her. Still, he found himself informing her,

"Not quite twenty years ago, love."

She nodded a little as the rain began to fall harder outside. There was no thunder today, only rain, and Jack found himself huffing out a breath and declaring,

"I think I shall wait out this rain outside."

"What?" Elizabeth tightened her fingers on his chest. "Why? Why are you going?"

"Because," he whispered, "you're a bit too lovely to be lying so close, Elizabeth."

Her eyes flashed, and her full lips parted, and she murmured up at him,

"I liked that kiss. I didn't want it to stop."

"I could tell," he nodded. On instinct, he brought his hand to carefully cup her jaw, and he said softly, "I've told you my stories, love; give me one of yours."

"A… a story?" She sounded shaken as her eyes fluttered shut. "One time I snuck all the way down to the shore in the middle of the night, going through the town in a simple dress, just because I wanted to feel free."

"And did you feel free, standing there on the shore in the moonlight?" asked Jack, studying her beautiful face. He felt himself start to flush hard with want, and he edged his hips away from her. Elizabeth nodded and sighed,

"There is nothing better in all the world than to be free, I don't think."

Jack was silent at that. As soon as they were rescued, she'd marry James Norrington, and then she'd never be free again. And he'd likely hang and never be free again. This island was the last taste of freedom either of them would ever possess. They both knew it. Elizabeth opened her eyes and stared up at him, and she whispered,

"Hold me, Jack."

"Mmph." He pulled her close against him, knowing she'd feel his erection against her belly and wondering what she'd think of it. He got his answer when he felt her hands drift between them and start playing with the hardness in his breeches. He gulped and tipped his head back, whispering,

"No, Lizzie; if you do that, this'll turn into a great big mess in more ways than one."

"What do you mean?" She was wide-eyed as she gazed up at him, and he realised she had absolutely no idea how to do any of it, how any of it worked. He let out a long breath and guided her hand against his cock through the material of his breeches, whispering,

"Poseidon's wrath… that feels good, Elizabeth."

She smiled a bit, looking nervous. She looked something else, too. Pink-cheeked and panting… she was aroused. She wanted him.

She  _wanted_  him.

Jack yanked her hand off of his hard cock, and he shook his head desperately. He pulled her back inside the tiny shelter, and he could see her peaked nipples poking through the thin material of her underdress. Yes, she was aroused. He let out a shaking breath and mumbled,

"A ship could be on the horizon in the morning."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Elizabeth demanded, and Jack just shook his head again. He couldn't be the one to make a woman out of her. Not when she had one man, Will Turner, desperately in love with her, and another man intent on marrying her. She was more than spoken for. She was taken, thoroughly. She was not his in any way. So he slithered out of the shelter, and as he went, Elizabeth called after him,

"Jack, why are you going out into the rain?"

He gave no reply, deciding to trudge through the sheets of falling water to a grove of coconut palms. He leaned against the trunk of one and shut his eyes, trying to pretend he was at the helm of the  _Black Pearl._ If he pretended hard enough, he thought, perhaps it would come true.

But when he opened his eyes again, he was just standing in the rain, stranded on a tiny island with a woman whom he desired  _very_  fiercely, a woman who wanted him back.

And then he felt like a fool for not letting her touch him, for not putting his hand up her skirt. He should have used his fingers on her, he thought, and brought her to ecstasy. He should have let her open his breeches and pull him out and rub his cock until he came all over her pretty little fingers. Why hadn't he done that?

He slammed his fists hard against the palm trunk behind him, and was rewarded with the  _thunk_  of a coconut falling straight onto his head. He collapsed, knocked out by the blow, and the last thing he thought before his face hit the sand was how very beautiful Elizabeth seemed whenever it rained.

**Author's Note: 1) The poisoning Elizabeth was worried about is Ciguatera fish poisoning, a toxin-based poisoning that occurs in reef fish and is more common in larger, predatory fish. It wasn't named until the 1780s, but was known in the Caribbean at this time.**

**2) Poor Jack, running away from Elizabeth because she's engaged and has a man in love with her. He's so damned** _ **decent**_ …  **for now. But I'm sure Elizabeth will get what she wants, no?**

**3) I'm changing the rating of this story from M to E due to upcoming chapters. Make of that what you will. :}**

**4) Thanks for reading - REVIEWS ARE VALUED LIKE AZTEC GOLD!**


	5. Invisible

Elizabeth found him slumped against a coconut tree, passed out, and at first she thought he'd drunk himself silly. But when she tried to rouse Jack, he seemed dead. Elizabeth began to panic, and she shook him hard.

"Jack!" she exclaimed. "Jack, wake up!"

"Mmph." At last, he awoke, looking drowsy and bleary-eyed. He blinked slowly at Elizabeth and then gripped at his head. He stared up and then clamored away from the coconut palm against which he was leaning. "Damned coconuts."

"What happened?" demanded Elizabeth, and he jabbed a finger at a young, green coconut on the ground.

"Bloody coconut fell right on my skull is what happened," he declared. "Tried to kill me."

It was dawn now, the first grey light of morning, and the rain had long stopped. The clouds had cleared. Elizabeth had come looking for Jack after she'd awakened, him having abandoned the shelter in a huff, and now she murmured to him,

"You didn't have to leave, you know."

"Oh, yes I did, love," he replied. "Else something would have happened in there that we both would have regretted, savvy?"

Elizabeth frowned deeply. "I wouldn't have regretted anything."

Jack scoffed where he sat. He rolled his kohl-lined eyes and told her, "I don't think your dearest, most darling Commodore would have cared too much for the news that your pretty little hands had been all over my… man bits."

He waggled his fingers at Elizabeth, and she gasped, offended in more ways than one. She shook her head and asked,

"Why would he know about it?"

"Presumably because you would tell him." Jack flicked his eyes back and forth, apparently a bit confused. Elizabeth furrowed her brow again and snapped,

"And why would I tell him?"

Jack gulped visibly. "I dunno, love; it's just something I presumed."

"Well, you presumed wrongly," Elizabeth told him, crossing her arms where she knelt on the sand. "The secrets of this island are this island's to hold."

"Are they?" Jack smiled at her until his gold tooth showed, and he shook his head just a little. "You're braver than I thought, love."

She bristled just a little at that, but then Jack's face shifted into a look of consternation. He stared over Elizabeth's shoulder, and he said,

"Sorry, my dear, but this conversation must be postponed until a later occasion. We appear to have visitors."

"Visitors." Elizabeth whirled around and gasped loudly. There was a ship on the horizon.

* * *

"How could they  _possibly_  not see this?" Elizabeth demanded. She stared at the giant signal fire they'd built, using an entire downed coconut palm they'd dragged over and burned. The smoke was black, curling up into the sky, and Elizabeth knew that anyone on that ship with one eye would be able to see the blaze. So why was the ship sailing due on its course, still nearly gone off the horizon, not making any progress toward the island?

"What, are we invisible?" Elizabeth asked incredulously. Jack Sparrow shaded his eyes and stared at the ship, and he shrugged a little.

"Seems rather as though we are less than distinctly visible."

"Jack…" Elizabeth walked up next to him and brushed her hair out of her eyes. The wind was strong, and her knotted hair was blowing all over. She glared at his face as he took out his compass and opened it, and it spun until the arrow settled on Elizabeth. She frowned, and Jack slammed the compass shut and tucked it away. He gazed up at the ship and declared,

"Any minute now, they'll change course and sail this way to rescue us, love."

But they didn't. They disappeared over the horizon. They vanished less than an hour later. Elizabeth found herself standing there with prickling eyes, and she whispered,

"We really are invisible."

"Perhaps we are," Jack murmured. "I need rum."

"Jack!" Elizabeth followed him as he made his way to the grove where the rum was stored. She stormed after him and insisted, "It isn't possible, that we'd be invisible!"  
"I suppose you would have thought it impossible to have immortal skeletons in the moonlight, before you saw them with your own pretty eyes, eh?" Jack said over his shoulder, and she knew what he meant. The  _Black Pearl_  was a mystical enough ship, and before she'd beheld it herself, she'd never believed that something so supernatural could exist. Perhaps something bizarre had happened when Captain Barbossa had marooned them on this island. Some Curse had been enacted, or some strange magical barrier had gone up around the perimeter of the island.

The Royal Navy hadn't seen Elizabeth's signal fire their second morning here, even though she knew they were all out searching for her. Now a passing vessel had come so close that they'd seen it with their naked eyes from the beach, and it had sailed right away even after they'd lit another large fire. What was going on? Why couldn't they draw ships near to this island? Were they truly invisible? Would they be trapped here indefinitely?

Elizabeth halted as Jack opened up the trap where the two crates of rum had been left.

"Jack," she said quietly. He'd descended into the cache and now looked up at her, peering over the edge. He raised his eyebrows, and she told him seriously, "If we only manage to survive another month on this island, surviving off coconuts and fish, and then we starve or die of thirst, I want you to know that I will die happy, because I will die free."

Jack tipped his head and then reached for a bottle of rum. He climbed out of the cache and shut the door, marching away from it and passing by Elizabeth as he informed her tartly,

"We are not going to die in a month, love. I've told you. Captain Jack Sparrow gets hanged by little red men in pretty red jackets, or he gets shot through by somebody angry their ship's being plundered. Or he takes a sword straight through the gut, or he -"

"Jack." Elizabeth reached for his wrist, and he whirled round, facing her. He huffed a breath and finished,

"Captain Jack Sparrow does not die of thirst marooned on an island, Miss Swann."

"And if something's happened to make us invisible?" Elizabeth demanded. "Why is it that no ship seems to be able to catch sight of us? Will any ship ever come to our rescue, Jack? Ever?"

"I'd like to keep on believing that eventually one will, yes," he told her, yanking his wrist out of her hand and uncorking his bottle of rum. The sun, by now, had reached high noon, and it was hot as Hades on the island. Elizabeth felt sweat on her back as she eyed the bottle in Jack's hand. He held it out in offering, but Elizabeth just shook her head and mumbled,

"I'm going into my shelter to get out of this sun."

"If you'll excuse me, then, I'm going to get very, very drunk, seeing as our best chance thus far for escaping this island has sailed away over the horizon. Cheers, love." Jack turned and walked away, and Elizabeth just stood and watched him go.

* * *

"I've brought you dinner," Elizabeth informed Jack hours later, as the sun dipped and cast a golden glow over the entire island. He lay on the sand, his skin rosy from exposure to the sun, and propped himself up on his elbows. He hadn't been kidding; he really was remarkably drunk. Elizabeth smirked a little as she lay crossed palm leaves with smoked barracuda meat on his lap. She held a coconut above his head and reached for his cutlass beside him.

"Be ready to drink," she said, just as he'd done to her the first time he'd opened a coconut for her. She whacked at the centre of the coconut with the back of the cutlass a few times until it opened, and Jack gladly sopped up the refreshing, hydrating coconut milk his body badly needed after so much rum. He moaned a little as he took his dagger out and carved the coconut meat, mumbling,

"Didn't know how hungry I was. Mmph."

Elizabeth sat and watched him eat, which was an oddly satisfying thing to do. The way his fingers moved on the food and then up to his lips was strangely alluring. She swallowed heavily and reminded him,

"You're allowed to thank me for bringing you food."

"Ah. Yes. How clumsily uncouth of me," he drawled in a drunken voice. He turned his eyes to her and smiled a little. "Sweet, beautiful Elizabeth. Thank you most kindly for generously toting me fish and coconut. I shall never repay you properly, dear, though I shall try."

She laughed at that, and she rolled her eyes. "Now you're just making fun of me, Jack."

"Quite the opposite, I assure you." He finished off his fish and set the coconut shells and palm leaves aside. Elizabeth picked them up and went to toss them into the fire for fuel. When she came back, Jack had reclined onto his elbows again, and Elizabeth knelt beside him.

"May I ask you something?" she began, gathering her courage and figuring that it was best to get these questions out of the way whilst he was drunk. Even if they were rescued and she did have to marry James Norrington, this was knowledge she wanted, and she wanted to get it from Jack Sparrow. She wet her bottom lip with a flick of her tongue, and she watched one of his eyebrows go up.

"Lizzie, you can ask me anything in the world, love."

Ah, yes. Very drunk. She sighed and nodded. She reminded him,

"When we were together in the shelter, and I was touching you, you were…  _hard_ … between your legs. Your manhood was rigid, it seems."

Jack's head tipped just a little, and the other eyebrow went up to join the first. He nodded.

"Aye, Elizabeth, my  _cock_  was hard. Do you know why?"

She paused, then shook her head just a little. She had some semblance of an idea, but she didn't want to sound like an idiot. Jack Sparrow sat up slowly, wobbling a little where he was, and he smirked broadly at her. He leaned toward her and told her,

"It was because I had the most beautiful young woman in the Spanish Main curled up against my body, love. A young woman with eyes that have a strange proclivity to swallow a man whole. Lips that rather beg for kissing. And a nicer shape from head to toe than I've seen in any lady I've encountered on my many travails. So, yes, Lizzie, my cock swelled up for you. And so I left and went and took a coconut to the skull."

Elizabeth frowned; that was a rather incongruous detail to finish with. But then she realised that he'd called her the most beautiful young woman in the Spanish Main. He'd described her features and told her they'd aroused him. Elizabeth studied his long nose, his darkly-lined eyes, and she felt a coil of warm need in her lower belly. She chomped on her lip and reached out to touch at his opened shirt, pressing her palm to his chest, and she murmured,

"I want to touch it again."

He stared at her for a very long moment, and then at last he huffed out a breath and said thickly,

"Perhaps if I weren't so drunk, I'd insist upon you  _not_  doing that, love. Perhaps if a ship hadn't sailed right by us today without sparing us a second glance, I'd demand that you get your hands off of me. But seeing as I am rather taken by drink at the moment, and we were, in fact, abandoned by that passing ship, I find myself somewhat disinclined to pass up your offer of… manipulation, as it were."

Elizabeth leaned closer to him, her lips a hair's breadth from his, and she whispered, "I like the way you speak, Captain Sparrow."

In response, he took her right hand and put it squarely on the crotch of his breeches, and Elizabeth gasped a little when she felt that he was hard again. She rubbed at him through the fabric, and Jack closed the gap between their mouths. He kissed her rather urgently, drawing her mouth onto his and pushing his tongue straight through her teeth. He dragged his tongue over the roof of her mouth and nibbled on her lower lip, and Elizabeth realised just how well he knew what he was doing. He was so experienced, she thought. He had twenty years of real living on her. But he seemed to be quite enjoying himself as he grew firmer and larger beneath her moving hand, and she hummed into his mouth in delight.

"Lizzie," he gasped, pulling away and lying back on the sand. The sun was descending further against the horizon, and the golden light was fading to a more vibrant orange. Elizabeth watched as Jack untied his breeches where he lay, his fingers clumsy from drink, and she felt her eyes go wide with shock as he shoved them down a little.

His…  _cock_ … sprang out from the breeches, long and thick and throbbing, looking like some sort of sea monster. Elizabeth hesitantly reached out and wrapped her fingers around its visibly throbbing shaft, and when she did, Jack hissed where he lay.

"Need to touch you, love," he declared, and she edged closer to him, unsure of what he wanted. He pushed up the hem of her underdress and massaged at her thigh, making Elizabeth shiver and then go very warm. She flushed straight through with want, and a damp sense of longing settled heavily in her hips. She was suddenly profoundly wet, and she could feel her own pulse. His hand crept inward around her thigh to the inside, and Elizabeth's breath caught in her chest.

"Jack," she whispered, "what are you doing?"

"Touching you, Elizabeth." He sounded clearer all of a sudden. "Do the same for me, will you?"

She jerked her gaze back to his manhood, remembering that she was meant to be massaging him there. She struggled to focus, to move her hand on him. She gasped as the pads of Jack's prying fingers reached into her open drawers and touched at her sodden entrance. She fluttered her eyes shut and pumped her hand on Jack's cock, his loose skin moving up and down over the shaft as she did. She rolled her hips forward against Jack's touch, his fingers flirting with her downy folds. He was being careful, she could tell, because she was a virgin. But she wanted more. She wanted to be touched harder. She drove her hips against his hand, and he groaned loudly.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, feeling his cock throb in her hand as she studied it. She stared at its tip, at its shaft, and she decided someday it would be inside of her. She gazed up at Jack's face, at the way he had his face tipped back into the sand, his mouth fallen open a little. God in Heaven, he was handsome.

"Lizzie, you're going to kill me, love," he mumbled, and she wondered what he meant. He danced his fingers more insistently against her nub, around her entrance walls and satiny folds. Elizabeth fought to keep her hand moving on his member, dusting her fingers up around his tip in a way that seemed to drive him mad with want. He squirmed where he lay on the sand, and suddenly Elizabeth felt everything getting very warm and tight inside of her. She let her head fall back, and she rolled her hips forward onto his fingers, and she croaked out helplessly,

"Jack…"

Then suddenly it was like cannon fire had gone off inside her skull. Her ears were ringing loudly and there were spots behind her clamped eyelids. She gasped as her body clamped and clenched around Jack's expert fingers, and she suddenly began to move her hand much more firmly on him. As the bliss that rushed through her veins faded a little, he slipped his hand out of her dress and wiped his fingers on his breeches, mumbling,

'I've only got a second, love, and I…  _oh_ , Lizzie."

He arched his back up and yanked up his shirt, revealing his scarred stomach with its dusting of black hair. Elizabeth was very confused as to why he'd done that, but then he clamped his hand around hers and increased the pressure she was using on him. He pumped their hands together rather viciously a few times, and then he clenched his teeth. His gold tooth gleamed as his eyes wrenched shut and his dreadlocked head tipped back. Suddenly there was viscous white fluid shooting in errating bursts from his cock, landing in obscene little puddles all over his stomach. Elizabeth didn't know what it was, so she reached out to touch one of the puddles of the stuff and found herself dragging it along his skin. He panted and groaned, and then she watched as his cock softened visibly a little. His throat bobbed and he opened his eyes, watching her play with the fluid on his belly, and he laughed a little.

"Don't make such an abominable mess, Elizabeth," he scolded her. "I'll go wash it off in the waves."

He started to heave himself up, looking and seeming more drunk than ever. She watched in wonder as he made his way to the shore and splashed water up on himself, appearing to scrub at his skin. Elizabeth just wiped her fingers on her dress. When Jack came back, his shirt and manhood were both safely tucked back into his breeches, which were tied back up. He stumbled from the rum, and he collapsed to sit back down on the sand beside Elizabeth, and he gave her a weighty look.

"See, I'd intended on staving off that sort of thing," he said, "with the assumption that you and I would be rather expeditiously rescued and you would go off and marry your Commodore, forgetting all about old Captain Jack, eh? But there was rum today, and there was a ship that ignored us today, and there were your hands, Lizzie, and your mouth… there was your mouth, so…"

He seized her face in his hands then, drawing her near, and she crashed against him into a kiss more fierce than any that had come before. By the time he pulled away, Elizabeth was utterly breathless.

"What is it that you did to me?" she demanded. "What happened to me?"

"What, you've never touched your own parts until that happened, love?" Jack asked, looking incredulous. Elizabeth shook her head.

"N-No. I never… never felt the urge to do such a thing."

He smirked widely at her. "Did you feel any  _urges_  this evening, Elizabeth?"

She felt her cheeks go very warm indeed, and she whispered, "Yes."

He laughed, staring at the sea, and Elizabeth cleared her throat. "What was the liquid that came out of you, that you washed off in the water?"

"You really know nothing about any of this, do you?" He was more serious now, and he reached to tuck Elizabeth's hair behind her ear. Her cheeks went hotter than ever, from embarrassment now. He tipped his head and informed her,

"That's the stuff you have to be right careful with, love. Makes a baby if you get it inside of you."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open in shock. So  _that_  was how a man and a woman conceived a child. No one had ever been brave enough to tell her the truth on the matter, and she'd never been allowed books that revealed reality. So the man would put his…  _cock_ … inside of a woman, between her legs, and stroke it back and forth. When he found release, that fluid would loose itself inside the woman, and she would be with child. Elizabeth stared down at her belly and confirmed,

"But I won't be…?"

"Of course not, love, not after a bit of touching." Jack seemed almost kind now, almost sympathetic. He felt badly for her because she didn't know anything, Elizabeth realised. She stared at his eyes and whispered,

"I'd like it if you slept in my shelter tonight, Jack."

He smirked a bit. "Would it make you feel safer if I did?"

She rolled her eyes. "It would make me happy."

"Good enough for me." Jack sighed heavily and reached for his very nearly empty bottle of rum. He polished off the last of it and said sincerely, "Thanks for dinner, Lizzie. And for the rest."

"Almost as good as a whore in Tortuga, then?" Elizabeth's eyes burned a little, and Jack glared at her as he shook his head and told her,

"You're different, love. In many ways. For one, you're apparently invisible. So, as the sun sets on our apparently invisible island, let's go to our apparently invisible shelter and lie down in apparently invisible peace, shall we?"

Elizabeth curled up half her mouth and shook her head. "You  _are_  drunk."

"So I'll sleep like a baby beside you," he reasoned, and he heaved himself to his feet again.

**Author's Note: Yeahhhhhhhh first lemonade of this story! Haha. But what's this with them being invisible to passing ships? As Jack would say, "Not good." Thanks so very much for reading. PLEASE DO REVIEW if you can spare a quick moment to do so.**

**I almost certainly won't be able to update tomorrow as I have a busy day leading up to a black-tie Christmas ball at a 5-star hotel (break out the designer gown!) with an overnight stay afterward. I just don't see any writing time tomorrow. So I do apologize, but the next update will likely come on Friday. Thanks for your patience.**


	6. No Good

Jack blinked his eyes open and realised Elizabeth was curled up in his arms in the shelter. It was still dark outside, though he had absolutely no idea what time it was. He breathed her in, smelling sweat and salt and the faintest hint of feminine grace about her. Jack kissed at her hair and realised something quite startling.

He was beginning to  _care_  about her.

When they'd first come to this island, she had been beautiful to look at, and very annoying, and nothing more. But somehow, over these days spent with her in isolation, he'd begun to truly admire the spark inside her, waiting to grow into a raging flame. He'd begun to quite like that little smirk, that haughty attitude she had. He liked that she was at once high-born and formal, and yet got her hands dirty scaling fish and lighting fires. She was curious - oh, she was curious, touching him with abandon and wanting more than that. She was  _good_  at her core, but she wanted, ultimately, to be a pirate. Jack knew that because she wanted freedom, and there was no freer life than a pirate's life.

But he wanted her to be genuinely happy. He wanted it for her, and the thought terrified him just a little. He stared at Elizabeth's face through the darkness and whispered carefully,

"The things you're doing to me, love…"

Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes, and her fingers tightened at Jack's chest. She stared up at him and murmured,

"What's got you awake, Jack?"

"Suppose I was just contemplating that I do not much care for the plans you've got conjured up for when we get rescued, love."

"My plans," Elizabeth repeated. A look crossed her face. "Marrying James Norrington, you mean."

"That would be one piece of the equation, yes," Jack confirmed. He sucked on his bottom lip and shrugged a little. 'I'd say that I'll miss you, Lizzie, but I'll be too busy swinging from a noose to miss anybody."

Elizabeth looked horrified, and her eyes watered. She shook her head.

"No. If James wants to marry me, he'll have to pardon you," she said. "I'll not watch you hang. Absolutely not."

"You don't have to come that day, love," Jack said lightly, but Elizabeth laced her fingers into his dreadlocks and whispered,

"I will not let you die."

"All of this is assuming that some ship, someday, decides to spare us a second glance. Or a first glance," Jack reminded her. "We may well just shrivel up on this island, and -"

"You said that wasn't going to happen," Elizabeth said sharply. "You said that Jack Sparrow did not die on this island."

" _Captain_  Jack Sparrow, if you please," he whispered, and she edged her lips closer to his as she informed him,

"You are infuriating. Positively infuriating."

"Better than being negatively infuriating." Jack smiled against her lips. "We're here and alive right now. Soon enough, if we're  _lucky_ , you'll be taken away from me and given to some other man, and I'll be dropped and strangled to the death for all the dastardly deeds I've done. So let's just live on this island while we can, Lizzie, before it all gets taken away one way or another."

"Taken away from you." Elizabeth pulled back and stared at Jack, barely visible in the dark shelter. "I'll be taken away… from you."

Jack huffed. "You know what I mean."

She kissed him suddenly, crashing her mouth against his, and she thrust her tongue between his lips. Jack groaned a bit at the way she'd so eagerly moved on him, and he kissed her back in earnest. For a long, long while, they did nothing but kiss, lying there with him holding her, and it gradually became the most comfortable thing in all the world. Jack had never, ever been this comfortable, he didn't think. Never had he felt so content as he did right now. Perhaps when he was at the helm of the  _Black Pearl._ It'd be a fight to figure that one out.

Eventually he started to go hard, and she began panting through the kisses, and he realised she wanted something more. Jack started hiking up her skirt on instinct, and Elizabeth murmured against his lips,

"Take me, Jack."

He scoffed gently against he and touched at her cheekbone with his knuckles. "Can't do that to you, love. The Commodore will want you…  _unsullied_ … on your wedding night."

"Oh, bugger that!" Elizabeth exclaimed, startling Jack a little. He scowled at her in surprised as she hiked her own dress up around her hips and untied her open drawers. Jack felt his eyes go round as saucers as she shoved them down and rolled onto her back. "Come  _here_ , Jack."

"Elizabeth." His fingers flew to untie his breeches, and even as he yanked his cock out, he protested, "We can't be doing this, love."

"Why not? I'm on an island where no passing ship gives us any heed. We're going to  _die_  here, Jack, and you know it damned well. So why won't you just take me? Please? Please."

She was begging him to fuck her. Jack shut his eyes and tried to process that. Beautiful, achingly beautiful Elizabeth Swann was begging to be rutted to him, by Captain Jack Sparrow. He let out a shaking breath and resolved to pull out of her in more than enough time. What he would  _not_  do was to put a child in her on this island - or anywhere else.

But he would give her what she wanted, because he wanted it, too.

"The things you do to me, love," he said, for the second time that night. He moved to hover over Elizabeth, clamping a hand onto her breast through the thin material of her underdress. He thumbed her nipple, which had peaked hard, and he whispered down to her, "If you don't stop me  _right now_ , rather irreversible things are like to happen, Lizzie."

"Do it." She hissed the two words up at him, sending a shiver down his spine. She nodded firmly. "Do it. Take me, Jack. Here, in this shelter you built for me, on this island where we go unseen. Do it. Please."

"Right; I won't make you ask again." Jack pushed her legs apart and aimed his cock at her entrance. He started to push in, feeling tight warmth snug around his tip. He hesitated when he hit the spongy barrier of her inexperience, and he watched Elizabeth's face twist and warp with pain. Her mouth dropped open, and she gasped,

"Why does it hurt?"

"Because you've never done it, love; it'll stop in a moment." He pushed in a little harder, feeling the rip beneath him and knowing it was all done now. He'd ruined whatever Norrington would have hoped to find. He squeezed his eyes shut and started to move, started to roll his hips against Elizabeth's. She wouldn't find a climax like this, he thought. Lying on her back being taken for the first time. She would need different positions, different stimulation to reach her peak. And he'd give it to her time and time again, even if he couldn't do it this time. He bent down and whispered into her ear as he moved,

"I'll give you pleasure the other times, love. Promise."

"Pleasure?" She moaned the word, and he realised she was enjoying this. She arched up against him, lacing her arms around him, and she blinked her eyes open. "Mmm… I do feel… pleasure."

"Ye gods, Elizabeth." Jack bucked his hips rather wildly, feeling damp heat hugging his cock as he did. He felt her hands convulse on his shoulder blades, and he realised he was seconds away from coming. He yanked himself out of her body and used his left thumb to rub at her clit, drawing circles, as he pumped his left hand on his sticky, wet cock. He came  _hard_ , his come spurting out in erratic jets onto the sand as his body flushed white hot. His left hand pressed hard on Elizabeth's nub, and soon after Jack came onto the sand, Elizabeth was shaking and moaning, her walls clenching round Jack's fingers. In the dim moonlight, he could see a few spots of blood on the inside of her thighs, evidence of what he'd done to her. As she recovered, he stared at the way his come had mixed with the sand inside the shelter.

"Well," he huffed, feeling breathless and dizzy, "This ought to be fun to clean up."

* * *

In the morning, Jack went out into the water in nothing but his breeches, deciding that he needed a good swim to cleanse himself of what he'd done to Elizabeth. He descended underwater and swam as far out as he could manage, and when he came up again, he blinked and saw Elizabeth standing on the shore, staring at him. Jack began to swim back in, and Elizabeth hiked up her skirt where she stood. He watched in wonder as she stripped off her dress, revealing her naked body. Jack had never actually seen her naked before. Now he did, in her full glory. Beautiful round little breasts, a flat stomach, narrow but shapely hips. She was absolutely beautiful, he thought, and he gulped where he stood in the water. Elizabeth began to wade out toward him, and as she did, he called,

"Best not linger in the water with that blood between your legs, lass. You'll call the sharks."

Elizabeth looked shocked, but she declared,

"I'll be quick. Just need… a rinse. It's been a while."

"So it has." Jack tipped his head. She was staring at his gunshot wounds, at his scars on his hard chest, he knew. He sniffed a little as she approached him. Then she asked him,

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"About what?" Jack replied dimly, and Elizabeth nodded.

"I suppose not, then."

Were they going to talk about how he'd taken her body rather impulsively and far too quickly in a dark shelter with both of them clothed? Were they going to discuss that  _that_  was how she'd lost her virginity - clothed, marooned, to Captain Jack Sparrow? No, they were probably not going to discuss that. Jack cleared his throat and sighed.

"Look, love -"

"Jack…" Elizabeth's voice carried warning, and she stared over his shoulder. He cleared his throat.

"Obviously, if the circumstances had been more opportune, I would have made the occasion more -"

"Jack! Look!" Elizabeth jabbed a finger behind him. Jack whirled around, expecting to see a shark in the water.

But it was no shark. It was a merchant vessel.

* * *

This time the vessel passed so close to the island that they could actually see men moving aboard her decks. Jack swam toward the ship, hollering at them, but they ignored him entirely. Then the men aboard the merchant vessel did something very, very strange.

They began dropping crates and barrels overboard.

Jack and Elizabeth rushed to shore to dress, and once the crew began dumping their loot overboard, Jack looked at Elizabeth and said in confusion,

"They're dropping supplies."

"Supplies for  _us?_ " Elizabeth was baffled. Jack shrugged and pointed out,

"They aren't stopping, love, but they're throwing supplies overboard at our tiny island. Strange coincidence, isn't it?"

He swam back out to sea and dragged in the crates and the barrels. Inside the barrels was fresh water, they found, and inside the crates were wool blankets, a fishing net, hammocks, medicines and bandages, a signal mirror (which they found bizarre since apparently no ships could see them), and loads of food and wine. The food was hardtack, dried mutton, dried fish, and dried tropical fruits.

As Jack and Elizabeth jumped up and down and screamed at the ship, trying to get them to come near, they sailed away. Elizabeth stared at the supplies the ship had dropped for them, and she stamped her foot in frustration.

"What the devil sort of ship sails so very, very close, ignores you swimming out to it, drops supplies for us, and sails away?" Elizabeth growled and kicked sand in rage. But then she settled a little, and a strange, wild grin crossed her face. She laughed rather maniacally and said, "They bought us time, Jack. That ship bought us time with these supplies. Time and some relative degree of comfort. You won't be hanged. I won't have to marry James. And we can stay here a little longer without dying of hunger or thirst."

She smiled blissfully at him, backing away with her arms extended, laughing a bit. Jack felt an odd pit in his stomach and shook his head a bit.

"No, Elizabeth," he countered, "this is not good. Something rotten's happened here. Something cursed and rotten. Don't be grateful for these supplies, come from a ship that ignored us while seeming to know we were here. There's nothing good in that, is there, Lizzie?"

"I don't care anymore," Elizabeth declared, and she reached into one of the food crates and pulled out a piece of salted mutton. She began to chew at it, smirking at Jack. He realised she'd been entirely taken by this fantasy they were living, and he gulped. He stared out to sea, watching the merchant ship disappear over the horizon, and he shook his head again.

"Not good," he mumbled, and he reached for a bottle of red wine.

**Author's Note: What** _ **is**_   **this bizarre phenomenon keeping them on the island? Will they ever get "rescued"? What will their life be like with their new load of supplies? Will they "do it" more properly? Thanks for your patience with my upload delay - the Christmas ball/party was suuuuper fun! Thanks for reading! PLEASE REVIEW if you get a second!**


	7. Raft

"Jack…" Elizabeth ambled over to where Jack was sitting on the beach. She sank down beside him, and he handed her the half-empty bottle of red wine. She gladly accepted and sipped from it, and she told him, "I've been thinking about what you said. That no good could come of what happened. I think you're right. I think we need to actually  _try_  to get off of this island."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Jack snatched the bottle of wine back from her. "And how do you propose that we  _try_  to get off of this island, young Miss Swann?"

She hesitated, and then said meekly, "Build a raft?"

"A raft," repeated Jack, narrowing his eyes at her. Elizabeth jabbed her finger back at all the crates Jack had dragged ashore, along with the barrels and the supplies, and she pointed out,

"We have food and water. We've got barrels for buoyancy. We've got crates to make the structure of the raft. Hammocks of rope to lash it all together."

Suddenly a look of realisation crossed Jack's face, and he nodded a little.

"We'll probably die," he said plainly. "We will almost certainly die out there beyond the breakers, once the waves get big. But one thing's for certain. If we stay on this island, we'll never get rescued, and that's bad."

"Is it, though?" Now Elizabeth was waffling again, and she gulped as she reached to hold his face. "Is it so very bad if we never get rescued."

He smirked at her and shook his head slowly. "Can't stay forever, love."

"No?" Elizabeth tried to breathe, but all she could do was remember the way it had felt to have him inside of her. She blinked a few times and whispered, "I would like to stay forever."

"Norrington's waiting for you," Jack said firmly. "Will's out there somewhere. Waiting for you."

"Will." Elizabeth had almost entirely forgotten about him and how desperately he needed saving. Was Will still alive, she wondered distantly? She eyed the crates behind Jack and asked him, "So, do we build a raft and take our chances of drowning, Captain Sparrow? Would you like to be the captain of our humble little raft?"

He laughed a little and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Only if you'll be my first mate, Lizzie."

She grinned. "Of course. And when we inevitably drown, we'll go down with our ship."

"Here's to heroic ends for those who were never heroes." Jack held up his bottle of wine and pretended to toast. "Here's to ships built of crates and hammocks, crewed by marooners and certain to wind up in Davy Jones' Locker."

Elizabeth took the bottle of wine from him and held it aloft.

"Here's to invisible islands that send pirates scavenging the ocean for the Royal Navy itself," she said. Then her voice grew serious, and she said, "Here's to rainy nights in palm-frond shelters."

"I'll drink to that," said Jack, taking back the wine and swigging. Elizabeth drank deeply after him, and he confirmed,

"Yes, Elizabeth. We're going to build a raft."

* * *

It took them five hours to build the raft, and by the time they'd finished, the sun was down and they were working by the light of the fire. They would push off from the island in the morning, Jack said. He tried in vain to convince Elizabeth to go naked and let him use her underdress as a makeshift sail, but Elizabeth refused. He would be using far too much guesswork to construct a sail, she told him, and she'd be left with no clothes if they were lucky enough to encounter a ship. Jack offered her  _his_  clothes and said he'd go naked, but Elizabeth said they were going to die no matter what, and that they didn't need a sail. She was probably right, Jack said. The currents would take them where they would.

By the time the raft was finished, it was rather an impressive craft. They'd emptied the fresh water into poured-out rum and wine bottles (Jack hated to see the liquor go to waste, but it made the most sense) so that they could use the empty barrels as a catamaran-like flotation system. The barrels were lashed beneath a large square constructed of panels of crates, which they tied together using a dismantled hammock. They did put a rudder on the raft to try and steer it as best they could, which they made using five layers of palm bark. Jack attached rope from the hammock to the rudder to make a rudimentary steering system. They lashed food and water to the 'deck' of the raft with ever more rope, and then at last Jack said,

"Well, if we are ever going to escape this place, this is how we'll do it."

Elizabeth stared at him in the glow of the firelight and took a few steps toward him. She cupped his jaws in her hands and kissed him hard, and when he started to kiss her back, his hands went to her waist.

"Jack," she said urgently against his mouth, "We're either going to die or we're both going to lose our freedom forever. Whatever happens, beginning tomorrow, this is all over. This bliss I've found here with you on this island is all over starting tomorrow morning. So, please, Jack… show me one more time."

He knew what she meant. The two of them slowly started stripping off clothes, one piece at a time. Elizabeth was hungry when she saw Jack naked, and she could sense the want radiating off of him. This time, when he took her body, he was just as insistent as she'd been talking to him. He plundered her from behind, pounding into her body rather roughly until Elizabeth finished with a desperate moan. He flipped her over onto her back and put her ankles on his shoulders, and she was shocked by how deeply he could penetrate her that way. He thudded into her body for a long while, his face contorting and bending with need, until at last he yanked himself out of her and mumbled something about her being very beautiful as he came on the sand.

Elizabeth lay there on the warm beach, naked as the day she'd been born, feeling the heat from the fire and wanting nothing more in all the world than to spend forever alone with Jack Sparrow. But he was right. Something was wrong. There was something nefarious in the way that ship had passed so closely by them, close enough for Jack to swim out and shout to the men aboard her, and yet ignore them whilst throwing them supplies. That was beyond strange. And it was a sign that they had to at least try… no matter how much it tore at Elizabeth's heart to do so… to escape the island once and for all.

* * *

"Hold on, Lizzie!" Jack called to Elizabeth as they made their way beyond the reef. The waves were really picking up now, and Elizabeth gripped onto the slats in the crate as their tied-down food and water supplies creaked against the ropes. She stared back over her shoulder as Jack steered the rudder of the raft to aim them out to open water.

Suddenly there was a soft  _thud_  in the air, and Elizabeth demanded of Jack in a shout,

"What was that?"

"I believe that was our little curse," Jack called back, his dark eyes serious. "We've cleared it now, it would seem."

Elizabeth stared back behind Jack and saw the island, but she couldn't see any of the evidence that they'd been there. The beach where their fire had been set up looked bare. She couldn't see her shelter. The island looked undisturbed and uninhabited. So how had the crew of that merchant vessel known to throw…

"They'd been marooned there themselves," Elizabeth said to herself in realisation. "They couldn't see or hear us, but they figured someone was there. Maybe it was even them that started the curse."

"What?" Jack cried, and Elizabeth just shook her head, starting to feel a bit seasick.

"Nothing."

For hours and hours they made their way along a current away from the island, which rather terrified Elizabeth. If they wrecked, they'd have crates as flotsam upon which to cling. Soon enough they were so far out that they couldn't see land. They were just floating along the swells, which was a nauseating sensation. Elizabeth retched over the side of the raft at one point, and Jack insisted,

"Eat some of that salted meat. It'll help with the nausea."

"I just ate this morning. I want to save it." Elizabeth wiped her lips and resolved not to become a problem. She asked Jack determinedly, "How can I help?"

"You can help by resting now so we can take turns at this rudder," Jack told her, and Elizabeth nodded. She curled up on the crates, shutting her eyes and trying her best to relax under the circumstances. Somehow, rather miraculously, about a half hour after she shut her eyes, under the heat of the sun and with the rocking of the waves, sleep came.

They did wind up taking turns at the rudder… for five days. They also wound up taking turns relieving themselves right in front of each other, discreetly turning away as the other one used the ocean as a privy. They also shared the food and fresh water, but by the sixth day, the water was running low, and Elizabeth worried aloud to Jack,

"We aren't going to drown. We're going to die of thirst."

"We're going to do neither," he replied, pointing his finger beyond her. Elizabeth whirled, and she saw what he was seeing. A ship on the horizon… and not just any ship.

The  _Dauntless,_ unmistakable in shape and glory.

* * *

"Elizabeth!" cried James Norrington as the longboat was heaved up onto the  _Dauntless_. "God in Heaven have mercy on us all. We thought you were… well, we did not think you had made it, Miss Swann."

Elizabeth nodded her gratitude to the sailor who wrapped a red jacket around her out of decency. She'd almost forgotten that she'd been wearing nothing but an entirely indecent underdress for so long. She put her arms through the jacket and wrapped it tightly round her, and she said to James,

"Captain Sparrow saved my life. In more ways than one. He kept me alive on that island. He built me a shelter. He helped me use coconuts for food and water. He speared fish to feed us. Using supplies that drifted ashore, he constructed the raft on which you found us, and he sailed it safely for six days. He is my saviour, my hero, and I beg you treat him civilly."

She glared at the men who had Jack's arms clasped in their hands, at the sailor who was aiming a rifle at him, and then she stared at James.

"I beg you. He is the only reason I am alive, Commodore."

James Norrington nodded to the men holding Jack. They slowly released him, and the man with the rifle lowered it. James approached Jack and slowly extended a hand.

"I suppose I owe you my thanks once again," he said. "It seems you are constantly in rescue of Miss Swann."

Jack touched James' hand and moved his fingers against his a little. He flashed a sad little smile and said in an uncharacteristically serious voice,

"You take very good care of her, boy, you hear me?"

James frowned a bit and flicked his eyes between Jack and Elizabeth. Realisation seemed to settle over him, and he tipped his chin up as he said,

"As soon as we're back in Port Royal, Elizabeth, we can begin planning our wedding. I look forward to that."

"What about Will?" asked Elizabeth. "Will Turner? He's still… a captive."

"I can not go about chasing down pirates to rescue blacksmiths," said James Norrington gravely. "My mission was to find you alive, Elizabeth, and that I have done with admittedly shocking success."

He turned to walk away, and Elizabeth watched as Jack was taken hold of again.

"Wait!" she cried out, and James turned round slowly. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. Elizabeth plucked up her courage, stared at Jack, and then said to James,

"If you want there to be any wedding, I insist upon a full pardon for Captain Sparrow."

James was silent for a long moment. He finally scratched at his wig a little and slowly approached Elizabeth. He lowered his voice and said,

"I can not do that. He is a known pirate. I can not simply -"

"Then I am afraid I shall have to rescind my acceptance of your proposal to marriage, Commodore," Elizabeth raised her eyes straight up to James', and he cleared his throat slightly.

"I shall see what I can do when we arrive back in Port Royal," he said through clenched teeth. "For now, he stays in the brig."

"No." Elizabeth shook her head and left it at that. James tipped his head and wet his lip with his tongue in confusion.

"Elizabeth, what did that man do to you on that island?"

"He saved me," she said, "time and time again. So now I will return the favour. I will gladly be your wife, Commodore. But he goes free, starting now."

James' cheeks went red as he looked round; Elizabeth was embarrassing him on the deck of his own ship. He finally barked,

"Give…  _Captain…_  Sparrow a hammock and leave him in peace. This is my command."

Jack wrenched his arms out of the hold of the two men who had been latched onto him, and he smirked as he sauntered away. He glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth, nodded gratefully to her, and winked. The deck began to clear as sailors went back to their duties, leaving James and Elizabeth standing alone. He stared down at her and asked gently,

"Did he touch you?"

"Would you forsake me if he had?" Elizabeth replied. James just shut his eyes, looking peaky all of a sudden. His throat bobbed, and he murmured,

"I should very much like to have you for my wife, Elizabeth. I will pardon him in Port Royal. And then I do sincerely hope that the two of you will never see one another again."

"Right." Elizabeth just nodded. James shifted on his feet, and he finally asked,

"How did you manage not to starve on that island?"

She smirked a little and shrugged. "Barracuda," she said, and she brushed past James in search of water.

**Author's Note: So, they're on their way back to civilization. Surely James won't get his way about them never seeing each other again, right? After all, these two still have a Will to rescue. ;) I do so appreciate your readership, and I would be really grateful if you could take a quick second and let me know what you think of the story so far. Thank you!**


	8. Expeditious

Jack crept up the stairs that led to the deck where Elizabeth had been given a cabin. They'd booted an officer out of his cabin to make room for Elizabeth, and now, in the moonlight, Jack snuck past all the sleeping sailors in their hammocks and made his way upstairs. The deck where Elizabeth was sleeping was just below the weather deck, and the cabin where they'd put her was at the aft of the ship. Jack stumbled back toward her cabin, feeling his head swim from drink. He'd raided the rum stores and had spent hours waiting for the sailors to fall asleep, drinking all the while.

He paused with his hand on the wooden knob of what he was about eighty percent sure what Elizabeth's cabin. If he opened it and it was someone else, he'd be damned, but he was relatively certain. He could knock, but that might wake someone, and he couldn't have that. Jack pinched his lips and twisted the door knob, pushing the door open.

Inside the windowless cabin, he found Elizabeth sleeping on a berth against the wall. The dimly lit lantern hanging from the wall cast a dull golden light over the cramped space. Jack shut the door, stumbling inside as the ship swayed. Elizabeth startled awake, and she sat up quickly as Jack came to sit near her feet.

"Jack," she whispered, rubbing at her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Had to see you, love," Jack drawled, and Elizabeth's lips parted.

"You're drunk."

"So I am," he confessed. "Got my hands on some rum."

Elizabeth blinked and looked at the door. "Jack. I got James to promise to issue you a full pardon when we return to Port Royal, but I think he'll renege on that if he finds out you've been here."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him, my dear." Jack reached for Elizabeth's face and dragged his knuckles down her cheek, making her shiver. He stared straight into her eyes and whispered again, "I had to see you, Lizzie."

"You did?" She seemed a little breathless, and her chest rose and fell quickly in her underdress. "Why?"

"Because," Jack began, "I needed to tell you that… that I was not taking advantage on that island, savvy?"

"Taking advantage," Elizabeth repeated, her brows knitting. She shook her head and asked, "What do you mean?"

Jack huffed in frustration. "I mean, love, that I touched you and you touched me for reasons besides the plain truth that you're a beautiful young woman, eh? I had other reasons for doing those things that we did, aside from your looks. Savvy?"

He was nervous now, and he was talking like it, blathering on drunkenly. Elizabeth chewed her lip and reached for his hand. She rubbed his thumb with hers, and he shut his eyes for a moment, tipping his head. Elizabeth asked softly,

"Why  _did_  we do those things, Jack?"

"Because, whether you believe a pirate can do it or not, Elizabeth, I actually happen to care for you as a woman in her entirety. From that lovely little spark you've got within your spirit all the way out to your cheeky little smirk and, yes, your beauty. I actually  _care_ , Elizabeth, and I had not planned on doing so. Not even a little bit. But it happened. And it's why you touched me, and it's why I touched you, so…"

He'd gone on and on, and as he'd spoken, Elizabeth's eyes had watered and she'd begun to cry a little. She sniffed a bit and whispered,

"Jack, how could I possibly marry James now?"

"You'll marry him, I'd wager, because you promised to marry him," Jack sighed. He touched at his forehead and mused, "I'll miss the devil out of you, Lizzie, when you do it."

"No." Elizabeth shook her head and dragged a knuckle under her eye to swipe away a tear. She gulped and said, "I won't do it. I won't marry James. I'd rather be with you. You and I will run away from Port Royal, Jack. We'll find a ship and go save Will."

"Ah. Still caught up about the blacksmith, are we?" Jack asked bitterly, but Elizabeth pursed her lips and told Jack,

"He's my friend. And I won't accept his death. Not yet. We have to find Barbossa and save Will. You and I. Together."

"You want to be a pirate, Lizzie?" Jack quirked up half his mouth at her, but she stayed serious and told him,

"I'd sooner become a pirate than marry James Norrington."

Jack licked his bottom lip and nodded, feeling a thrill go through his chest. Was she serious? Did she mean this? He decided to test the waters.

"So, we'll sail back to Port Royal under the deception that you are to marry the good Commodore. You'll return to the Governor's Mansion, and I'll be pardoned. I'll secure a small ship that the two of us can crew on our own. Once I've got the ship, I'll come and sneak you out of your dearest father's home, and we'll run away together in hopes of finding the Black Pearl and rescuing poor Will Turner. Have we a plan, Miss Swann?"

"Yes, Captain Sparrow," she grinned. "We have a plan."

He leaned toward her and kissed her lips gently, sliding his fingers into the hair she'd brushed. He asked against her lips,

"And you don't want to marry your elegantly coiffed Commodore?"

"I like your hair better, Captain Sparrow," she replied, and she kissed him back hard.

* * *

Elizabeth stared at herself in her mirror at the Governor's Mansion. Her maid stood behind her and pushed some pins into her hair. Elizabeth had already been laced into a dark red gown, and she stood as her maid finished her hair. She nodded her thanks, and her maid asked hesitantly,

"Was it very terrifying, Miss? Being stranded on that island with that pirate?"

Elizabeth turned to face her maid and shook her head. "No. Not at all, Mary. It was… it was the most free I've ever felt in all my life. And he was absolutely wonderful to me."

Her eyes watered and she blinked a little. Another maid, Catherine, appeared at the door of Elizabeth's antechamber as she walked out of her bedroom. Catherine said rather nervously,

"Miss, the Governor is already at his office for the day, but there is a man who's come to call, insisting that he be permitted to see you."

"Is it Commodore Norrington?" asked Elizabeth curiously, but Catherine knitted her hands before her and shook her head.

"Please, Miss. He's rather frightening. He says his name is  _Captain_  Jack Sparrow."

"Jack?" Elizabeth went pushing past Catherine and dashed out onto the landing of the mansion's upper floor. She thrust herself out onto the landing and gripped the rail, gasping when she saw Jack standing in the mansion's foyer with a very uncomfortable-looking butler. He held a leather tricorn in his hands before him and grinned up at Elizabeth, his gold tooth glinting. Elizabeth dashed down the stairs so quickly that she tripped, and she yelped loudly as she tumbled head over heels down the stairs.

Suddenly she was being heaved to her feet, and she giggled like a child as Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and choked out a laugh.

"You all right, love?" he asked. "Not used to the skirts again, eh?"

"Something like that. Have you come for tea?" Elizabeth asked, and Jack stepped back, laughing again. The butler looked utterly scandalised, as did Catherine and Mary up on the landing. Elizabeth walked down the stairs with Jack, and he asked cautiously,

"Have you got rum instead of tea?"

"It'll be  _tea_ , Captain Sparrow," said Elizabeth with a grin. She turned up to Catherine and called, "Tea in the green lounge, Catherine, if you please."

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth," Catherine nodded with a curtsy. She hurried down the stairs and made her way to the kitchens at the back of the mansion. Elizabeth guided Jack into the green-coloured parlour to the left of the foyer, and she sat slowly on a divan as Jack flopped into a chair opposite her. He crossed one boot over a knee, and he smirked at her.

"Don't you look lovely in your fine gown, with your hair done all nicely, love," he told her. "But I'll always like you best in a dirty, salty underdress, your hair stringy round your sunburned face."

She blinked a few times at him and nodded, her wild grin fading just a little. Catherine came in with tea, pouring a cup for Elizabeth and one for Jack and offering them sugar. Once they each had their cups, Catherine left the cart, curtsied, and scurried out of the room. Elizabeth sipped her tea and asked,

"Remember when you first cracked a coconut over my head with your cutlass?"

Jack was quiet at that. He stared into his cup of tea and murmured to Elizabeth,

"I've got a ship."

She felt gooseflesh go up on her arms. She sipped her tea again and tried to stay calm. "What sort of ship?" she mumbled in a low voice.

"A tiny sloop I won in a game of cards," he said. "She's called the  _Expeditious_. Used to be a naval ship before pirates got hold of her. She ran messages from schooners and warships. Only needs a very small crew. If you follow my directions…"

He cocked up an eyebrow meaningfully at her and said in a low voice,

"We could manage."

Elizabeth smiled weakly at him and nodded. "When do we go, Jack?"

"Your maids are already suspicious," he said. "We should go as soon as possible."

"Tonight," Elizabeth whispered. Then, suddenly having a flight of wild thought, she asked, "Why not now?"

"Now?" Jack raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "No, love. Cover of night, to be certain."

"Fine. Tonight." Elizabeth huffed a breath and nodded. "I'll dress practically. I've got a few sturdy, simple gowns I can put on myself."

"What you wear makes no difference to me so long as you can help me tack with the mainsail, love." Jack sipped his tea, and Elizabeth dragged her teeth over her lip, feeling thrilled at the idea of sailing away with him.

"Where and when shall I meet you?" she asked, and he whispered,

"Midnight. Outside the front gate."

"I'll be there," Elizabeth nodded, feeling utterly breathless. She finished off her cup of tea and murmured to Jack again, "I'll be there."

**Author's Note: Oh, my. So these two are making their escape onto their own ship, and Elizabeth is running away from Norrington! Will they find Barbossa and Will? Or will they just strike it on their own as pirates? Let me know what you think will happen once they've found true freedom! I would REALLY appreciate your feedback. Thank you!**


	9. Midnight

"Elizabeth!" Weatherby Swann came walking into the parlour where Elizabeth was sitting, and she was shocked to see that her father wasn't alone. Indeed, he was accompanied by none other than Commodore James Norrington, who was apparently on still on shore. Elizabeth flew to her feet as quickly as she could.

"Father," she greeted him, closing her fan. Then she curtsied politely to James and murmured, "Commodore."

"The butler says that Jack Sparrow was here earlier," said Weatherby, and Elizabeth sucked in air hard through her nostrils. She nodded slowly and told the two men,

"He's taking an assignment on a merchant vessel. He came to say goodbye and to wish me well."

"Is that all?" Weatherby Swann seemed awfully suspicious. He shook his head a little and said, "I know you say he kept you safe on that island, Elizabeth, but I do not trust that man. He is a pirate. A blackguard. A rogue."

"He was my saviour," Elizabeth nodded. She decided to change the subject entirely, and she asked James, "Have you come for dinner, Commodore?"

"I have, Miss Swann," said James. "I should like to discuss the particulars of our wedding with you, if you are amenable."

Elizabeth gulped. She would be abandoning James tonight. She would be abandoning her father. She couldn't breathe, all of a sudden. She and her father and James were seated in the dining room, and soon enough the maids brought out roast pork, rice, and glazed carrots. Elizabeth hungrily ate her food, and she mused,

"On the island, we relied so much on coconuts for their water and their meat. But there was fish, too. Jack speared a snapper with his cutlass, and then he killed a barracuda, which we smoked to preserve."

James and Weatherby stared at one another, and then at Elizabeth, and James asked cautiously,

"Did he abuse you in any way, Elizabeth?"

"What?" She set down her fork and knife and shook her head wildly. She stared at James and scoffed. "No. Entirely the opposite, Commodore."

"Good. I am very relieved to hear that," said James meaningfully. He cleared his throat. "I understand that we must take into consideration the politics of this being the wedding of the Governor's daughter, but I should like to wed Elizabeth as expeditiously as possible."

"I think six weeks ought to be plenty of time to plan the occasion and invite all necessary guests," said Weatherby. "Does that suit you, James?"

"Six weeks suits well," he said, "for I shall be sailing again soon thereafter."

"Is no one going to ask me?" Elizabeth huffed, though of course it didn't matter, since she was leaving with Jack tonight. Still. She glared at James and her father, both of whom seemed surprised by her outburst. Weatherby shrugged a little and asked,

"Does six weeks suit you, Elizabeth?"

"Yes. Six weeks will be fine," she said begrudgingly, and the men began to discuss menu and a guest list. Elizabeth sat in silence, sipping her wine and knowing damned well that she would never in her life marry James Norrington. Midnight, she decided, could not come soon enough.

* * *

When midnight did come at last, Elizabeth's heart was in her throat. She opened her wardrobe in her bedroom at half past eleven and slid on a sturdy wool dress in dark green, lacing it loosely up the back and then tightening and tying it herself with unpractised hands. She tied her petticoats and the wool skirt herself, too, and she slid on black heeled shoes. This was as casual as her clothes would let her be, she thought with disdain. She braided her hair tightly down her back and went to her writing-desk, where she pulled out a piece of paper and a quill.

_My Dearest Father,_

_I leave you and James not at the hands of a captive, but of my own free will. Do not come looking for me. I am precisely where I want to be. I shall love you always and always._

_Your daughter,_

_Elizabeth_

She left the note on her writing-desk and opened the door to her quarters. She looked round but saw no one, though she did not dare carry a candle to be certain. She crept through the moonlight across the upstairs landing and then toward the staircase, and when she reached that, she tiptoed down the stairs one at a time. She quietly padded across the foyer floor, and she spared a glance over her shoulder back upstairs to where her father was sleeping.

"Goodbye, Father," Elizabeth whispered, and she slowly opened one of the front double doors that led into the foyer. She slipped outside, shut the door, and breathed in the Caribbean night air. She dashed through the front garden and down toward the gate, and when she reached that, she pried it open and slipped out into the street.

And there he was, leaning up against the stone pillar surrounding the mansion. Jack Sparrow.  _Captain_  Jack Sparrow, which was actually true now that he had the  _Expeditious_. Elizabeth crashed against his arms, and he wrapped her up in an embrace and murmured against her ear,

"We have to go, love. Got to get down to the docks quickly, before anyone notices you're gone, savvy?"

"Jack…" She wanted to tell him how much more he meant to her than James could ever mean. She wanted to tell him that she missed those nights on the island, that she'd enjoyed touching him and having him inside of her. She wanted to tell him everything, but all she said up to him was, "Let's go."

They made their way down through the town of Port Royal in perfect silence, her fingers laced through his. As they approached the town, he put his leather tricorn on her head, and though she could barely see, she realised why he'd done it - to hide her identity. Elizabeth kept her face down and didn't speak as she let Jack guide her through the streets. The town was mostly quiet except for taverns and brothels, and nobody from those establishments seemed to much care that they were out and about. Elizabeth walked at a brisk pace to keep up with Jack's strides, her petticoats swishing as she did.

"I've got us a crew of sorts," Jack said over his shoulder as they approached the docks. "Realised this sloop was too much ship for the two of us."

"A crew," Elizabeth repeated. "Did you win them in a game of cards, too?"

"Just four men looking for adventure that I happened to encounter in a tavern, love," Jack said to her. Elizabeth walked with him onto the dock, and as they approached a twelve-gun ship that was at least seventy-five feet long, she asked,

" _That's_  your tiny sloop? Jack, that's… that's a real ship."

"So she is. Isn't she a beauty?" Jack grinned over his shoulder, his gold tooth glinting at her. He paused and turned. "One condition. Well. One sort of… situation. She's a real ship, but she's still rather small. She's only got the one cabin for the captain, and the rest of the crew hammocks out. There's room on the berth in the cabin for you and me both, love, if you'll… if you'd care to share it with me."

Suddenly he wasn't smirking, or winking, or doing anything roguish at all. He seemed very serious. Elizabeth's breath hitched, and she nodded.

"Of course I'll share your cabin with you, Jack."

"Very good," he said quickly. "We sail now. Let's get onboard and meet our new shipmates, shall we?"

He hustled up the gangplank onto the  _Expeditious,_  and Elizabeth followed him up. He helped her onto the ship, and on the deck were three sturdy-looking men. One was broad-shouldered and dark-skinned, and Jack introduced him first.

"This is Harcourt. He was a slave, ran away, and has been running ever since. We'd like to keep him running as long as we're able."

"Pleased to meet you," said Elizabeth, her stomach twisting a little. Her father's policies had promoted slavery in Jamaica. She knew that. She chewed her lip and told Harcourt, "Every slave should be free."

"Mm-hmm." He didn't seem too pleased to know her, so she decided to leave him alone for now. Next she was introduced to Paolo, who had come from Portugal and barely spoke any English. What was clear was that he hated the Spanish and that he could sail. He wanted to be a pirate, he kept telling Jack in broken English. And he could sail. Last was a ragged but burly middle-aged man called Townsend, who had been in the Royal Navy until they'd forced him into retirement. His wife had died childless, and he was all alone now.

"I miss the sea," he told Elizabeth seriously. "I'll sail to rescue your blacksmith from those other pirates, if that be our mission. So long as I'm sailing, I'm happy as can be."

"Right," said Jack. "You all know your roles round here. Elizabeth, do what you can and learn as quickly as you please. Hoist the gangplank. Ready the sails. Our heading is south by southwest until we get into open waters. Let's get out of here quickly, boys… and… Elizabeth."

Soon enough the sloop was headed out of Port Royal's harbour under the cover of darkness. She moved very quickly through the waves, and Elizabeth stood at the bow of the ship and watched it cut through the water.

"Lizzie," called a voice, and she whirled round to see Jack smiling down at her from the helm. He beckoned to her in the moonlight, and she moved swiftly across the deck and up the few steps to him. She stood beside him as he helmed the ship, and he asked,

"Do you feel free now, love?"

Elizabeth pondered that question. She didn't have to marry James Norrington. She was standing beside Captain Jack Sparrow on the deck of a ship he'd won in a game of cards. They were off to look for Will. She had left behind everything she'd ever known to sail away with him into the abyss. Did she feel free?

"Yes," she said confidently. "I feel free now."

"Good." He flicked his eyes to her and told her, "I'm about to hand over this ship's wheel to Paolo for the rest of the night so I can get some rest. Care to join me?"

Her stomach flopped. Would he enter her body again? Would he touch her between her legs like he'd done before?

"I've got something in mind," he said, as if to answer her unspoken questions, "that involves my mouth going places you probably never imagined it doing. I should like to show you, love, if you'll come down below with me. Eh?"

"Yes." Elizabeth's voice was hoarse. Jack smirked a little and nodded. He whistled, and Paolo turned round on the weather deck and came trotting up to the wheel. He took control, and Jack mumbled something to him in Portuguese. Jack took Elizabeth's hand and guided her down the stairs, all the way aft on the weather deck, and through the door into the one and only cabin aboard the sloop. When he shut the door, Elizabeth tried to tell him that she cared far more deeply for him than she'd ever imagined doing. But before she could, he swallowed her up in a kiss.

**Author's Note: Raise your hand if you feel a lemon coming on! Raise your other hand if you feel just a teeeeeeeensy bit sorry for James Norrington? No? Yes? Maybe? Haha. Thank you so very much for reading. PLEASE REVIEW if you get a quick moment.**


	10. That Word

"So," Elizabeth said as Jack broke away from the kiss, "this is your cabin."

"Correction." He held up a finger. "This is  _our_  cabin."

Elizabeth's mouth twitched at that. She blinked a few times and whispered, "Our cabin."

"It's on the small side for the captain of a ship, to be certain, but, then, she's rather a small ship," Jack mused. He looked round the cabin, which looped around the aft section of the weather deck. There were windows lining the cabin. There was a tiny table with two chairs, a desk against the wall with another chair, and a real bed that would just barely fit the two of their bodies. That was it; that was all the little cabin held. Lanterns were hung from hooks on the walls. Elizabeth turned to face Jack and slowly backed up toward the bed.

"What did you mean, Jack?" she asked, and he smirked broadly.

"About putting my mouth in all sorts of mystical places?"

"Well, yes," she said, but then she took him by surprise and specified, "The last time we were together in a cabin, you told me that you cared about me. What did you mean?"

"Oh, Lizzie." Jack shut his eyes. Was she really going to make him explain everything he felt for her? Was she really going to force him to spell out for her the emotions she had stirred up in his crusty old soul? Well, fine. He would tell her. He moved to sit beside her on the bed as the ship rocked in the open water they'd found. Jack put a hand on Elizabeth's knee through her dress and petticoats and stared at his own fingers, and then he raised his gaze up to her face and said carefully,

"There are certain things, love, that a pirate such as myself never expects himself to feel. I'll be the first to admit to you that I've had many women in my time… but none of them made me want much more than what they gave me. You, on the other hand, Lizzie… for you, I sailed off that island on a raft made of crates and rope. For you I won this sloop in a game of cards and gathered up a crew to go find Will Turner. For you I… well, I reckon I'd give up or do just about anything, and that's a terrifying feeling, savvy? But it's also rather a beautiful feeling, lass, because, having never felt this way about another human before, I can say with confidence that it does alter a person. Feeling this deeply changes you from the inside out in a way I don't mind as much as I anticipated minding, so…"

He'd rambled on and on, but Elizabeth was silently crying by the time he'd finished. She had tears eking down her beautiful porcelain cheeks, and Jack swiped at them and said quietly to her,

"Don't cry, Lizzie; I don't like to make you cry."

"You are the only one in my entire existence who has called me  _Lizzie_ ," she smiled, shaking her head, "and you never asked permission to do it."  
He tipped his head and pulled off his hat, which he set aside. He pinched his lips and said gravely,

"My dear Miss Elizabeth Swann, would it suit your fancy if I did, from time to time, utilise the moniker  _Lizzie_  in addressing yourself?"

She giggled a little and nodded, and then her smile faded a little and she said seriously,

"I think I'm falling rather in love with you, Jack. I think I began to feel it on the island."

"Elizabeth." He used her full name now, staring out the window on the aft of the sloop as he shook his head and murmured, "Don't use that one word there, Elizabeth; it's dangerous."

" _Love._  You say it all the time."

"Only in jest," he countered, and his stomach twisted and tightened. He gnawed his lip and kicked off his boots, and he shoved them away with one foot. He turned his eyes to Elizabeth and instructed her, "Don't feel that word, Lizzie. Not toward me of all men, eh? I'm a dangerous man to feel that word towards, savvy?"

"Savvy." Elizabeth kicked off her own shoes and scooted up onto the bed, reclining against the pillows as she asked, "If I'm not allowed to love you, Captain Sparrow, am I at least allowed to like you a very great deal?"

"Of course you can, Lizzie." He quirked up half his mouth at her, and he followed her up onto the bed. He hovered over her, realising this was the first time they'd ever been in a bed together with the intention of doing something definitively improper. Aboard the  _Dauntless,_ all they'd done was kiss, afraid to do more in case they were caught. But now, as Jack bent down and kissed Elizabeth deeply, he knew he needed more. His dreadlocks fell around her face, tickling her cheeks and neck, but she didn't seem to mind. She reached up and held his cheeks, and she brushed her thumbs under his kohl-lined eyes.

"Jack?" she asked as he pulled his mouth from hers and moved it to her neck. She gasped at the sensation of being kissed there, and he moaned a little sound against her skin to let her know he'd heard her. She threaded her fingers between his dreadlocks and squeezed at his scalp, and as he lathed his tongue against her neck, just beneath her ear, she mumbled, "I can't help it. Feeling that word toward you."

"All right, then," he hummed onto her. He licked and sucked at her neck as she arched up and gasped, and he finally asked,

"Shall we see how quickly we can get you naked, Miss Swann?"

"Naked? On this ship?" She seemed shocked, but Jack nodded onto her neck and informed her,

"I'll be able to do what I want to with far more ease, love, if you're divested entirely of your clothes, eh?"

Elizabeth laughed a little, and the two of them finagled their way off the bed. He helped her untie her simple green gown, and she quickly made her way out of two petticoats and open drawers. But she needed help with her cotton stays, and then at last she stripped off the clean underdress that made Jack's stomach pull. It so resembled what she'd worn on the island.

"This was all much easier when you were down to the one layer," he informed her.

"Perhaps I shall go about the ship in my underdress like an utter harlot," Elizabeth joked, and Jack smirked just a little as he considered that possibility. But Paolo seemed too lascivious to allow for a thing like that, and he didn't yet know what to make of Harcourt and Townsend. No, he thought. She needed a proper dress on for the time being.

"Maybe spare yourself all the petticoats and whatnot," Jack suggested, "and just wear the dress."

"Society would be so scandalised," Elizabeth told him, stepping up to him naked and beautiful and threading her arms around his shoulders. She began to undress Jack, which took longer than undressing Elizabeth had taken. He had more small parts - his wrist wrap, his rings, his belt, his vest, his sash at his hip, his breeches… But he let her do it all, for there was something profoundly arousing in allowing her to be the one to strip his pieces off one at a time. His cock flushed harder and harder as she worked, and by the time she shoved his breeches down and he helped her get them off, his member sprang forth with urgency. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked a little, and she asked in a whisper,

"What did you mean about putting your tongue in strange places, Jack?"

"Wondrous places," he corrected her. "Places you might not expect, given your relative inexperience. Now lie on your back, love, and I'll show you, eh?"

Elizabeth climbed back onto the bed, and the ship began to sway just a bit more. They'd hit a patch of bigger swells, Jack could feel. The wind must have picked up. He climbed up with Elizabeth and pulled her thighs apart, staring down at the beautiful downy thatch between her legs. He stared right at her eyes as he descended, and he watched her full lips part in surprise as he did. Her fingers cinched on the brocade blanket, and she asked in a murmur,

"What are you doing, Jack?"

"Gonna make you come nice and hard, Lizzie," he promised. She went red-faced at that, and he smirked a little. He kept staring up at her as he dragged his tongue from bottom to top, tasting metal. Oh, she tasted delicious. He licked again as Elizabeth's eyes wrenched shut, and this time he lingered near her nub. Again he licked, a long flat stroke, and Elizabeth whimpered helplessly. Jack took a moment to kiss the insides of Elizabeth's thighs, and then he kissed her clit a few times. He licked her again, long and flat and slow. He sucked on her nub and watched her squirm, watched her writhe in ecstasy, and he knew this wouldn't take long. But he wanted to experiment a bit on her, so the next time he dragged up his tongue, he thrust it inside of her, hooking it and sucking  _hard_  on her clit. He did it again, and again, and the fourth time, he brought her clit into his mouth and massaged it with his lips.

And that did her in. That was all it took for someone like Elizabeth to start clamping around Jack's mouth. She was coming right now, he realised as he licked in quick, short strokes. Her thighs were shaking in his hands as he stroked at her, and her walls were contracting around his tongue and lips. This felt good, he thought, rubbing his hips against the sheets. This felt so good, to feel her pleasure. He'd made women finish before, but it had never felt this good to do so.

He watched Elizabeth's face twist and contort with bliss, watched her toss her head back against the pillow, mussing her long braid. She slapped at the sheets and then gripped them desperately.

"Jack!" she shrieked, a bit too loudly, and he laughed low in the back of his throat as he sat up slowly and shushed her. He held one finger to his lips, pearly and swollen from what he'd done to her. He swiped at his mouth with the back of his wrist and whispered,

"The crew'll hear you, love; hush now."

"Sorry." Elizabeth was breathless, panting, and she huffed, " _That_  was… what  _was_  that? Do you do that to every girl, Jack?"

She seemed to have meant the question innocuously, but for some reason, Jack took rather grave offence. He felt a sour taste in his mouth all of a sudden, and he swallowed hard as he shook his head and told her,

"There's only one girl in all the Caribbean - nay, all the world - holding my attention at the present time. And for the foreseeable future. And I believe you know who that girl is, Lizzie, eh? I'd rather not think of anyone else right now; I've got you, and that's all that matters to me right now… and for a good long while, I should think, savvy?"

Elizabeth blinked up at him, looking dizzy. She nodded and whispered, "Don't you need to finish?"  
He glanced down at his throbbing cock and nodded. "Certainly would be nice. I'll finish off in the chamber pot, love."

"What?" Elizabeth dug her teeth into her lip and whispered, "I thought perhaps you would… you might put it on my chest?"

Jack dipped his chin, his eyebrows flying up. My, but she had grown up, hadn't she? She wanted his come on her chest? He studied her breasts and imagined finishing on them. What a thought was that. He growled a little and started stroking his cock, knowing he only needed half a minute to be done with it after how aroused he'd become tasting her and watching her find her bliss. He edged his knees up around her until his cock was aimed right at her breasts, and he whispered,

"You certain, love?"

"Please give it to me, Jack," she murmured, and his mouth fell open to hear her talk like that. Bold little creature! He gasped and tried not to tip his head back as his balls tightened up against his body, as everything went taut as a string. He snapped hard and came, the creamy fluid shooting out in jets that landed in obscene puddles all over her beautiful alabaster flesh, still tanned in a line from the island. Her breasts were covered in it soon enough; his come laced and looped around her pert nipples and across the soft flesh of her chest. He gulped and sat back, rather admiring his handiwork, and he gasped when Elizabeth reached up and started to play with it a little. He could hardly stand the sight of that, and he finally dragged himself off the bed and went to the tiny washbasin. He poured out just a little water, not wanting to waste, and he dipped a rag into it. He hurried to clean Elizabeth off, to wash her hand, and he tossed the rag under the washbasin.

"Jack," hummed Elizabeth, "Let's sleep naked."

"This isn't the island, love," he chuckled, pulling on his breeches and his blouse. "Someone might need the captain even during rest hours. Here; put this on, at least."

He tossed her her underdress, and she yanked it over her head. He crawled into the bed, which held both of them quite snugly, and he curled her up against him. Then he realised something, something terrifying and wonderful. Something that pirates were not meant to realise. He swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling as Elizabeth drifted off to sleep.

"Lizzie," he mumbled, and she kissed his chest in response. Jack licked his dry lips and told her, "You go right on ahead and feel that word if you so please. You won't be the only one feeling it, I don't suppose. So."

Elizabeth froze against him. She raised her eyes to him. Had he just told her that he was in love with her? Very indirectly, perhaps. Perhaps. He closed his eyes and murmured,

"G'night, Miss Swann."

"Goodnight, Captain Sparrow," she answered wisely, and the two of them drifted off to sleep with Norrington and her father probably slumbering back in Port Royal, still unaware that Elizabeth had run away.

**Author's Note: Lemon! Confession! Foreshadowing! Oh, my! What do you think Norrington will do when he learns Elizabeth's run off with Jack? Anything? And will they find Will, or not? We're also going to learn more about the crew of the** _**Expeditious** _ **in the next chapter. Thanks so much for reading and THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING!**


	11. Leave the Caribbean

Elizabeth ladled out some porridge from the pot she'd put over a lit stove, thanks to the calm seas, slopping it into a wooden bowl.

" _Obrigado_ ," said Paolo, bowing his head respectfully. Elizabeth flashed him a small smile and poured him some beer from a pitcher into a wooden mug.

Next she served Harcourt, the runaway slave, who hungrily began eating before he even got his beer. Townsend took his serving gratefully and spooned it quickly into his mouth. Elizabeth turned off her little stove below decks and let it start to cool, and she watched as Jack, who as Captain had been served first, ate his fill. Elizabeth ladled herself a portion of porridge and walked to sit at the small table where everyone had crammed.

"So, the Royal Navy forced you into retirement, Mr Townsend," Elizabeth noted. "What were your duties?"

"I was a Boatswain when I retired, Miss Swann," replied Townsend. "Had been for many years. I started out as a swabbie. Worked for a time as a navigator. But I worked my way up to Boatswain, and there I was for quite some time. But I spent so long away from my wife, Betsy, in my Naval career that she never were with child. She never did conceive whenever I'd be home on shore leave. Just never happened."

"I'm very sorry," Elizabeth said awkwardly, eyeing Jack where he sat at the head of the table. "If that's what you wanted - children - then I'm sorry you never had them."

Townsend shrugged a little and finished spooning his porridge into his mouth. "Was a greater sorrow by far when my Betsy died. She was called Elizabeth by birth, just like you, Miss Swann. Betsy. Anyway, she took an awful fever not long after I retired from the Royal Navy. Then I was all alone and without even the sea to guide me. It's enough to drive a man straight to the bottom of endless bottles of rum, it is."

Harcourt, the runaway slave, mumbled something quietly, but no one heard him, so Elizabeth asked gently,

"I beg your pardon, Mr Harcourt?"

"I said, I had a wife, too," Harcourt said roughly. He set down his empty bowl of porridge and declared, "They sold her away - onto a different plantation. When I got free I went to go find her. But she'd died there, on that new work ground. Malaria."

Elizabeth felt a pit in her stomach, and Paolo said something low and mournful in Portuguese. Jack translated,

"Paolo says he's mightily sorry for you both."

"Enough pity, then," said Townsend in a feigned light voice. "I'll swab the deck and then work the sails. Harcourt, you take watch this round. Miss Swann, you use seawater to wash out these dishes and get things ready for the dinner meal. You're the Cook now, I reckon. Paolo, you take the helm and steer us true. What's our heading, Captain?"

Jack smirked a little. "We sail up the coast of Cuba. I think the  _Pearl_  may go to Havana for supplies once they've broken their curse."

"Havana. Paolo, I'll assist you with the map, my boy."

Townsend, Harcourt, and Paolo quickly split up, and Jack said softly to Elizabeth,

"Townsend's in his element on the sea. I can see that he made a fine Boatswain."

Elizabeth smiled a little, sadly, and gathered up the wooden bowls and metal spoons. She put them all into the pot and said,

"I've got to go wash these out with a bucket of seawater."

"It can wait just a moment." Jack reached for her hand and pulled her near him, and he bent just a little to kiss her gently. He murmured against her mouth, "So you're a pirate now, love. What do you think of that?"  
"Yo-ho, yo-ho. A pirate's life for me," she hummed against his lips, and he grinned. He tipped his forehead against hers and whispered,

"We're going to get my ship back. The  _Black Pearl_  will be mine again. And if we find young William, all the better, for your happiness does, in fact, make a difference to me, love."

Elizabeth pressed herself against him and kissed him hard. But then, when she pulled away, she asked him,

"What do you think our odds are of finding Will alive?"

Jack gnawed his lip and hesitated just a moment too long. Elizabeth pulled back.

"You think they've killed him," she scoffed in disbelief. Jack let out a very long sigh and threw his hands up.

"My darling Elizabeth, they were already on the verge of killing him the moment they marooned us. And that was weeks ago. For what reason, exactly, would Barbossa keep young William alive? For what reason would they keep my crew alive? I've no idea what we'll find, love. I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I've not the gift of sight of the future."

"Captain! Captain Sparrow!" screamed Townsend from the deck, and Elizabeth went dashing out with Jack to the weather deck of the  _Expeditious._  Townsend jabbed his finger behind them and declared in a huff, "We're being followed, Captain!"

Elizabeth whirled around and ran up the stairs to the helm. She gasped as she saw the  _HMS Dauntless_  closing in on them fast.

"Why, yes," said Jack. "It would appear that we are being followed."

* * *

"Elizabeth." James Norrington walked across the gangplank that had been placed from the  _Dauntless_ to the  _Expeditious_. Elizabeth glared at him and demanded,

"How did you find us?"

James looked wounded. "One of the maids overheard Jack Sparrow telling you all about a tiny sloop called the  _Expeditious_  that he'd won in a game of cards. Heard the two of you deciding to meet up at midnight."

"And why didn't you and my father heed my letter?" Elizabeth demanded. "I made it very clear that I was leaving of my own volition."

"Elizabeth," James scoffed. "I am going to pretend that you did not run off with a pirate. I am going to pretend that you -"

"Stop pretending, James," Elizabeth murmured to him. She put her hands on his chest and shook her head. "I am in love with Jack Sparrow. Please… please, James. Let me go."

James flicked his eyes behind Elizabeth to Jack. He held up his hand to still his men from arresting the crew of the  _Expeditious._  Elizabeth's hands convulsed on James' chest, and she shook her head and said quietly,

"Please, James. Let me go."

"So this is what you really want?" he asked. "You want to sail away with this man?"

"It is what I want," she nodded. James shut his eyes.

"Get out of the Caribbean," he said firmly, and Elizabeth took a step back from him, her hands falling from his chest.

"What?" She thought of Will, of the  _Black Pearl_ , and she shook her head. "Get out of the…"

"Get out of the Caribbean," James said again sharply. He opened his eyes and glared at Jack over Elizabeth's shoulder. "Sail this little sloop of yours to Africa, or to Europe, or up the Eastern coast of North America. But get out of my purview. If you are to steal away Elizabeth, I don't ever want to encounter your sorry excuse for a ship again."  
"Soon enough, we'll have a significantly less sorry excuse for a ship, mate," said Jack. "We're on something of a mission to get my ship back, as well as young Mr Turner."

"My conditions are that you may all be arrested for piracy and brought back to Port Royal at once, or you may leave the Caribbean permanently."

"Commodore!" shrieked Elizabeth, but he just said quietly,

"Goodbye, Elizabeth. I am… I am most aggrieved to see you make this choice."

He turned to go, and Elizabeth whirled to throw her hands up at Jack. "What shall we do?"

"We sail for Georgia or South Carolina, love," Jack told her. "Florida."

"Wait!" Elizabeth turned back toward James, and he paused, about to board the gangplank back onto the anchored  _Dauntless._  Elizabeth gnawed on her lip and begged, "Let us go find Will first, Commodore Norrington."

He shook his head slightly and told her, "I've been played by you one too many times, Elizabeth. You knew, didn't you? When we had dinner with your father and planned our wedding? You knew you were leaving that night at midnight. You have played me like a fiddle, Miss Swann, and I won't be played again. You may either face your fate as a pirate, or you may leave the Caribbean with the man who stole you from me. These are my conditions. I shan't equivocate."

Elizabeth's eyes burned at the thought of leaving Will to his fate - an almost certain death, if he wasn't already dead. She finally nodded, and James made his way back onto the  _Dauntless,_ followed by his men.

"Hoist the anchor!" called Jack. "Our heading remains Havana for supplies, then on to Florida and onward to Georgia. Come on, men. Ready the sails. Paolo, to the helm."

Elizabeth watched James shout orders on his own ship, and she swiped tears from her eyes as she realised just what had happened. From behind her, Jack growled,

"Lizzie, get those dishes washed up from breakfast."

"Aye, Captain!" Elizabeth called over her shoulder, and she tore herself away from the rail.

* * *

"Jack?" asked Elizabeth quietly as they stripped down in their cabin late that night. He just grunted in response, and she chewed her lip. "I'm sorry that you won't get your ship back."

"I will get my ship back," Jack told her. "This is just a minor detour up the coast of Florida and the English colonies. In a few months, we'll circle back. And then we'll find the  _Black Pearl_  and get her back."

"And Will?" asked Elizabeth. Jack sighed heavily, pulling off his shirt and kicking off his boots.

"He's gone, love."

Elizabeth pinched her lips. She didn't want to admit that likelihood to herself, but it was probably true, she thought. She swallowed hard and pulled herself into the bed in her underdress. Jack joined her, yanking her tightly against him.

"You told him you were in love with me," he noted, "brazen as you please."

"Well, I meant it," Elizabeth said. "I'm sorry that the rest of the crew heard me."

"Suppose they already know," Jack reasoned. He buried his face into Elizabeth's hair and breathed in, and he murmured, "Suppose I rather love you, too, Miss Swann."

"Enough to sail to Florida because my aggrieved fiancé ordered you to get out of the Caribbean?"

"Enough to sail anywhere, probably," Jack said, "and he isn't your fiancé anymore, savvy?"

"Right." Elizabeth mumbled. She curled against Jack's body, smelling salt and sweat and spice. She eyed him and asked, "What do the others think of sailing out of the Caribbean?"

"It's escape for them, love," Jack mused. "For Harcourt, it's going out of slave territory, and further away from the masters chasing him. For Townsend, it's far away from his past. For Paolo, well… Florida means loads of Spaniards, but he'll be glad to reach Georgia. It's a brand-new place other than the Natives, you know. We'll be in uncharted waters, as it were."

"What if we like it in Florida, and we want to stay there for a while?"

"I mean to make an offer to Harcourt," said Jack, "to take him to a Spanish place, Fort Mose. It's in Florida, made up of escaped slaves. The Spanish recognise them as free and put them into service. If Harcourt wants to go there, I'll gladly take him. If any of the others want off the ship, I'll gladly let them go. You may well like St. Augustine."

"Have you been?" Elizabeth marveled, and Jack smirked at her as he said,

"Been everywhere, love."

"Jack?" Elizabeth whispered, pressing her palm to Jack's bare chest. She felt the little slick of sweat there, felt the grit of dirt, and when she looked up at him, she saw that a bit of the kohl around his right eye had smudged. He was tired, she could see. He was weary. He stared down at her, and Elizabeth murmured,

"I want to go everywhere with you, Jack."

He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles, and he told her,

"I'll take you everywhere, love."

"Love," she repeated, and he nodded. She watched his throat bob, and he whispered quietly,

"Love, Lizzie. Goodnight."

**Author's Note: Oh, my. So it looks like Will is just kind of out there on his lonesome, eh? And way to go, James, following her and then banishing her and Jack from the Caribbean or else hanging them as pirates! Booooo. Everybody say "Booooo, James Norrington!" So, they have a stop off in Havana for supplies and then they're off to Spanish Florida. Will Harcourt make it to the escaped slaves' colony? And where will Jack and Elizabeth wind up? This little story probably has about 5-7,000 more words in it, just a fair warning. Thanks so much for reading and a HUGE thank you for reviewing.**


	12. Havana

Havana, as it turned out, was a bustling city of over fifty thousand inhabitants, one of the largest cities in the Americas. When they pulled the  _Expeditious_  into Havana's harbour, there were large merchants vessels coming and going in quick succession. They found a small dock for their little sloop, and Captain Sparrow gave everyone four days' leave before meeting back at the  _Expeditious_ to sail onward to Florida.

Now, on their first full night in Havana, Elizabeth sat opposite Jack in a Spanish tavern - a real tavern, not some raucous pirate hangout - and she feasted upon stewed seafood with saffron and other spices. She drank the mulled red wine that had been brought to her, and she said to Jack,

"I am eager to see Harcourt make his way to the slaves' freedom colony in Florida, Jack."

"As am I." He spooned stew into his mouth, moaned with delight at the taste, and then said, "They really do cook well, these Spaniards."

Elizabeth ignored him and continued. "After we've gotten Harcourt to safety, I think we should try to find the  _Black Pearl._ "

Jack set his spoon down and stared at Elizabeth. He shook his head a little and said,

"If Norrington finds us, love, he'll have us  _both_  hanged, and I will not see you hang."

Elizabeth pinched her lips tightly. "There is still a minuscule chance that Will is alive. And you need your ship back, and the crew you left upon it…  _Captain_  Sparrow. So I think we ought to find the  _Black Pearl,_  Jack."

Jack chomped his lip and drummed his ringed fingers on the wooden table. He shook his head again and mused,

"It's too dangerous, love, to take you back into the Caribbean so soon. I'd have to leave you in Florida, or -"

"No. I'm coming with you." Elizabeth reached for Jack's hand, and she felt his fingers twitch beneath hers. He eyed her oddly, but she barreled on, "Wherever we go now, Jack, we go together. Savvy?"

He smirked broadly at her use of his catchphrase, and he finally nodded slowly.

"Right then, my pirate lass. We'll venture back into dangerous waters again in search of your blacksmith and my crew and, perhaps most importantly, my ship. And if we should come across dear old Commodore Norrington… well, he shall have to make very good sport out of hanging us both. Have we a bargain, Miss Swann?"

"Aye, Captain." She held his hand fast as a fiddle struck up in the corner of the tavern.

* * *

They spent that night in the inn above the tavern where they'd eaten dinner. The bed was remarkably comfortable compared with the berth aboard the  _Expeditious._  Elizabeth lay on her back and practically sank into the pillows as she sighed deeply. She'd had a bed like this at the Governor's Mansion in Jamaica. It was one of the only things she missed.

"You didn't seem to mind sleeping on sand on the island," considered Jack, as though he'd read her mind. He crawled into bed with her, and Elizabeth giggled just a little bit as he curled her against him. She told him,

"I didn't mind sleeping on sand because I was with  _you_. The nights I was alone, it was more than a little uncomfortable."

They were quiet then, and Elizabeth knew he was remembering their time on the island the same way she was. He was remembering barracuda smoked over a large fire. He was remembering rainy nights spent with the two of them crammed into her little shelter. She was thinking of her first time being entered by a man, on the beach with Jack. She was thinking of his fingers twisting inside of her as he kissed her.

"Jack." She stared at him and cursed the fact that she had her monthlies. Why did she have to be bleeding during their private time on shore leave? She huffed and held his face, and she whispered, "I fell in love with you there. On that island."

"I would make you proper," Jack replied, and Elizabeth snorted a little scoff.

"What, am I improper?"

He tipped his forehead against hers, shut his eyes, and said quietly, "I would marry you, Elizabeth."

Suddenly she couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. She just gulped hard and held his face, and when she pulled back from him, trying to ascertain whether or not he was serious, he blinked open his kohl-lined eyes.

"If we wind up swinging from gallows because we go searching for the  _Pearl_ ," he said, "I'd rather swing as your husband. If you'd be good enough to allow such a thing, eh? I'm not the first to propose, I do realise, but -"  
"Jack." Elizabeth kissed him then for all she was worth. She smashed her mouth against his and pushed her tongue between his lips. She pulled away after a very long while and finally panted, "Yes, Jack. I'll marry you."

"Before we leave Havana," Jack insisted. "I should like it to be done quickly if we mean to begin breaking all manner of laws again, Lizzie."

She buried her face into the crook of his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, grinning like a madwoman at the thought of marrying Jack Sparrow, and she began to hum.

_Yo-Ho. Yo-Ho. A pirate's life for me._

THE END

**Author's Note: Sorry for the abrupt ending, but with Christmas, New Year's, another vacation, etc. around the corner, I figured I'd go ahead and let this one be. However, I'm not opposed to the idea of writing a sequel wherein they get married, take Harcourt to Florida, and search for Will and the** _ **Black Pearl.**_   **So keep your eyes peeled, because that sequel may eventually get written.**

**Thanks so very much for reading and reviewing this fic. If you know my writing, you'll know this falls into the "romp" category of stories, which are always fun to write. Thanks again. Drink up, me hearties! Yo-Ho!**


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